Star Fox - The Iridium Chronicle
by K.S. Reynard
Summary: Nightfall is descending upon the Lylat System. With the time running out before the cataclysm erases all that she loves, Krystal finds herself overwhelmed with a responsibility that she feels unable to handle. The answer lies with a mysterious being on a long-forgotten planet, but with Corneria engaged in a full-scale war with an enemy bent on revenge, the future is uncertain.
1. Chapter 1: The Apparition

_Rated T for Language (Strong language is censored), Violence/Blood, and Suggestive Content._

* * *

**Prologue**

Eight months had passed since the end of the war against the Aparoids. Upon their return to Corneria, the members of Star Fox were hailed as heroes by the Cornerian public; but sadly, the team's monetary situation was far from promising. Their sizeable paycheck for the successful elimination of the Aparoid species had been mostly spent by paying off the remaining debt on the wrecked _Great Fox; _and precious little was left over for anything else_. _Just months ago, Falco announced that due to the lack of action in the Lylat System, he would be leaving the team once again to find trouble elsewhere in the known universe.

This sad news was quickly followed by statements from Slippy and Peppy, who also decided that it was in their best interests to seek out other professions while mercenary work remained in short supply. Slippy had gone back to working with the Cornerian R&D department, and Peppy was appointed Lieutenant General of the Cornerian Army under the avian General Graves, who had replaced the ailing General Pepper after his unexpected resignation due to illness.

The only consolation for Fox was that Krystal had chosen to stay with him regardless of any financial condition. In the months following the Aparoid conflict, their relationship had deepened, with Fox shedding some of his reservations towards the Cerinian and more openly displaying his affection for her. Reconstruction following the widespread destruction brought about by the Aparoid attack on Corneria City was sluggish; and parts of the city still lay in ruins after the devastating assault from less than a year ago. However, the emotional scars caused by the war against the parasites would last far longer; and the short, violent conflict would live forever in infamy in the minds of all who experienced the suffering and pain inflicted by the Aparoids.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Apparition**

Date and Time: March 15, 10 ALW, 9:45 P.M.

"Movement! Check and clear!"

The loud, heavily accented voice of the royal fennec guard broke through the sound of the driving rain crashing down around them as a powerful lightning bolt struck a nearby mahogany tree, sending a powerful shock wave through the ground beneath their sodden feet. This was more than any of them could have bargained for. Resolved to stand his ground in the face of the spectral being bearing down upon them with almost supernatural determination, Fox McCloud pressed the stock of his blaster into his shoulder, his eyes set on the forest ahead of the small detachment he had been assigned to. Krystal stood by his side, mirroring his movements and checking all angles for the illusive enemy target.

"Krystal! Can you tell where it is?" Fox worriedly asked.

Refusing to release her death grip on her blaster, the Cerinian quietly answered, "It's not on us yet, but it's getting closer."

The captain of Adalmure's royal guard cursed under his breath as the torrential rain beat down upon him. A fog had risen up due to the plunging temperatures that were uncommonly low for the planet, which normally retained an average surface temperature of more than 90 degrees. The visibility was abysmal.

Fox announced, "Switching to thermal vision," and Krystal followed suit, while the royal guards moaned in disgust and jealously as they tried to see through the mist with the iron sights on their well-worn assault rifles and sub-machine guns that fired outdated ballistic ammunition that would have been very difficult to find on Corneria. A nearby bush rustled violently, causing the captain to unwisely open fire on it. The disturbance was more than likely some kind of small forest creature trying to find shelter from the storm; and by shooting the bush, they had completely given away their location. Regardless, the small unit maintained their resolve to block the only path to the ancient shrine which contained an artifact that was rumored to possess great power. Krystal's sixth sense began to warn her of an approaching presence, and she immediately relayed the information to Fox, who thanked her for her assistance and continued to scan the forest for the intruder.

One day prior to his current conflict, Fox had been contacted by the Queen of this far-flung planet, who had begged for his help in finding and subduing a strange black creature that had taken the lives of five of her royal guards. Fox nearly scoffed at the mission profile at first; but very quickly, he realized this was no laughing matter. They were not the predators here—_it _was. Fox glanced over to his left and saw that the fennec next to him was visibly shaking. He had obviously seen the creature before, and his petrified reaction worried Fox. Krystal, on the other hand, was terrified for a far different reason. She was completely unable to read the quickly-approaching marauder's thought patterns, which were more complicated than her Cerinian mind was capable of processing.

A white outline suddenly appeared on Fox's thermal sight. Instinctively, he snapped back his blaster's trigger and fired into the woods far ahead of him. The royal guards and Krystal quickly did the same, unloading a ferocious hail of hot lead and laser fire into the trees. No contact could be confirmed, and Fox immediately assumed that he had missed his mark. Nervously, he realigned his gaze and waited for his next opportunity to strike. The figure appeared again, but this time, he was ready for it. The laser burst from his blaster struck the target, but it didn't go down. Instead, it returned fire with savage ferocity. White-hot plasma flashed past Fox's head, barely missing his left eye as he dropped to the ground and readied a grenade.

"Frag out!" he yelled, pressing the detonation trigger and hurling the yellow sphere as far as he possibly could. The satisfying explosion shook the ground nearby and temporarily stymied the enemy's gunfire, allowing Fox to move into a more heavily forested area and readjust to his surroundings. The yellow plasma fire resumed shortly thereafter, and one of the fennec guards quickly dropped to the ground, dead. He had been immediately slain with an expertly placed shot to the head. Krystal almost screamed in reaction to the soldier's grisly death wound, but she covered her mouth to mask any sounds that wished to flee from her lips. The Adalmuran captain was becoming increasingly panicky, and he began to indiscriminately fire into the forest, doggedly hoping to hit the well-hidden enemy. Without warning, a purple grenade appeared seemingly out of nowhere and landed at his feet as Krystal desperately dove for cover.

"Oh sh…"

Before he could even finish his profanity, he was blown to pieces by the grenade, which also claimed the life of the soldier standing next to him who had reacted too slowly to the violet orb. Fox and Krystal were now alone in the forest, facing the most deadly single enemy they had encountered since the Aparoid Queen. Knowing that cover would be their best friend in this scenario, the two foxes attempted to mask themselves with the leaves and shrubs of the forest. It wasn't working. Plasma fire struck a tree three feet from Fox's muzzle and immediately ignited it before the heavy rain quickly extinguished the flames. Strangely, the attacks were only being directed towards him. Fox realized this and desperately hoped that Krystal would use it to their advantage.

The Cerinian watched wide-eyed as the black-furred creature passed a hundred feet in front of her without noticing her at all; almost as if she didn't exist. The apparition was almost certainly a vixen, but any similarity to the members of the family '_vulpes'_ was difficult to observe. The marauder wore a very tight black bodysuit with blue conduit-like markings that ran up and down her entire body and vividly glowed with a royal blue hue. Seizing the opportunity of a lifetime, Krystal lined up her scope and opened fire on the enemy, striking it several times to almost no effect whatsoever. Her blood ran cold in her veins as the apparition turned and stared at her with a pair of glowing, savage blue eyes before unleashing a barrage of plasma fire on the Cerinian vixen. Krystal screamed as the underbrush around her burst into flames, and she felt the searing heat threatening to burn her.

She dropped to the ground and desperately crawled away from the creature, trying to find some way to escape. Defeating this enemy was not possible. They were at an extreme disadvantage now that they were aware that their weapons were useless on the mysterious enemy. She and Fox's Arwings were docked back at the Queen's palace five miles away, but reaching them before the black-furred apparition could was the key to their survival. Pushing herself off the ground, Krystal took off in a run while plasma fire flashed around her, threatening to end her young life. Finding himself in a similar situation, Fox took note of his teammate's actions and started to run back towards the palace as fast as his legs would carry him.

On the way back to the regal building, Fox and Krystal's trails intersected, and they soon found themselves running together. Fox had never seen such fear on Krystal's face before. It was almost a wonder to him that she didn't faint on the spot. He looked behind him to make sure the creature wasn't running them down, but he saw nothing. The plasma fire had also stopped, leading him to believe that they were no longer in immediate danger. Fox and Krystal's run eventually slowed to a brisk walk, and for the first time in more than an hour, Fox felt like he could breathe again. The feeling didn't last long.

Within seconds, _four _messages simultaneously appeared on his wrist-mounted communicator. They were from Peppy, Slippy, Falco, and General Pepper's successor Graves on Corneria; and they all said the same thing—the Climate Control Center on Fichina had been completely obliterated to the point where almost nothing was left. The death toll across the planet was universal. Not one settler had survived. Fox couldn't believe what he was reading. The headlines seared his eyes as he frantically scoured the messages for any additional information about the identity of the enemy. No information on the topic was available. In minutes, the scantily-clad Queen Bacaro of Adalmure sloshed through the thick mud and water on the narrow trail leading to the shrine, stopping in front of Fox and Krystal. The young fennec monarch's silk clothes and beige fur were completely soiled and covered in mud.

"What happened?" she breathlessly demanded. "Did you catch the intruder?"

Before Fox could answer, a hulking monolithic warship descended through the thick black stratocumulus clouds and slowed to a stop directly over the shrine. The ship was painted black and sported the same eerie blue outlines the black marauder's suit had prominently displayed. On the side was a series of glyphic characters that immediately brought Krystal's native language to mind; although these symbols differed slightly from those of the Cerinian alphabet. The phantasmal warship had no wings; and many jagged panels reminiscent of Aparoid architecture jutted out from its heavily armored hull, which brilliantly reflected any light that fell upon it almost like a painted mirror. However, it was the vessel's sheer size that was its most terrifying aspect. It was more than three times longer than the _Great Fox_ had been, and its main cannon looked to be capable of inflicting catastrophic damage on something much larger than itself. The only thing Fox could do was look up in amazement and horror at the largest battleship he or anyone else in Lylat had ever seen.

* * *

That dream had haunted his sleep ever since the events from three days ago. Now back in his spacious, upscale apartment high above Corneria City, he sat up in his bed and looked around the room. The digital clock on the nightstand next to him read '7:12 A.M,' and the sun had just risen over the horizon to begin what was forecasted to be a mild spring day. Krystal sat at the small breakfast table in the apartment's small kitchen, poring over a faded and torn brown pamphlet that detailed a prophecy given to her native Cerinian people more than four hundred years ago by a prophet who chose to remain anonymous. The existence of the prophecies had been unknown to Fox up until very recently, but he was more than familiar with them now. They had become an obsession of Krystal's, and she had spent many hours vainly attempting to decipher the cryptic messages by using any resources she could find on the topic.

The Cerinian had already dressed herself and prepared for the day, and an empty bowl of cereal sat on the table in front of her next to the prophetic writing. Still in his pajamas, Fox approached her; and putting his arms around her neck, he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. The cobalt vixen smiled and closed the brown booklet while Fox scrounged through the cupboards, looking for something to eat. Pulling out a peanut butter-flavored breakfast bar, Fox took a seat at the white table across from Krystal and vigorously bit into it, sending small crumbs all over the floor.

"Hey! I cleaned that floor yesterday!" Krystal unhappily remarked as she surveyed the 'damage' the granular crumbs had done to the highly polished faux wood surface.

"Oops," Fox insincerely replied, taking another bite and dropping more crumbs onto the floor, much to Krystal's dismay. Fox was generally known to be a very organized individual, but Krystal was on another level compared to him. It could be truthfully said that her decision to share Fox's residence with him had made his apartment a much nicer place to live; and he was grateful to her for that. Temporarily ceasing his breakfast, he put the fiber-rich bar on the table and told Krystal, "We've got a meeting with the rest of the team at 11:00 in Peppy's office. What do you want to do until then?"

Krystal sighed and looked down at the old pamphlet in front of her, observing the ornately drawn Cerinian glyphic designs on its cover. All she wanted to do was to solve the mysteries contained within, no matter how ridiculous that sounded to Fox.

"Krystal, please leave that book alone," Fox begged. "You haven't been yourself since you started reading it. It's not healthy for you to obsess over things like that. You're not going to find the answer here, anyway."

"I know, Fox," she dejectedly conceded, "But this last part has been killing me ever since I read it for the first time." She read the prophetic passage aloud to Fox, translating the Cerinian text into Lylatian so he could understand.

"'_In the last days, darkness will descend upon us. The minds of all will become clouded, and no one will be able to understand that which is to take place. Gaia will fall, and only one shall survive."_

"I know 'Gaia' is a reference to Cerinia, but this is the part I can't figure out," she added. Fox soberly looked on as Krystal continued, "_When what is written below is able to be read, the last of the Threefold People will arise. May the blessings of the Originator be upon him."_

Below the Cerinian glyphic writing was a line of print in another language, which was similar, but much more complicated. As much as she had fanatically attempted to decipher the cryptic text, not one word of it could be understood.

"Krystal, please," Fox repeated, begging for her to leave the mystery unsolved and return to the realm of reality. "I know how those things work—you have to give them time to unfold; otherwise, they'll just make you paranoid."

Feebly lowering her head, she weakly replied, "I know." Reluctantly caving to Fox's advice, she took the brown papers and carefully stowed them away in her beige purse next to the rack where she and Fox kept their shoes. Fox finished eating his small breakfast before tossing the plastic wrapper it came in into the trash can and sweeping up the crumbs he had created out of respect for Krystal. While the Cerinian neatly made the bed she and Fox shared, expertly smoothing out any wrinkles in the fabric, Fox walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He closed the door behind him, but did not lock it in case Krystal needed something on short notice.

After disrobing and stepping into the warm shower, Fox fiddled with the controls for the tinted glass panels around him and set them to their most opaque settings for privacy purposes. The time by himself allowed him to think about the events that had brought him and his team back together after a four-month hiatus. With Peppy now in an administrative position as Corneria's Lieutenant General and the _Great Fox_ no longer operational; the team would never be the same as it was before the Aparoid invasion. This saddened Fox; although over the years, he had learned to accept reality—rather, he was forced to accept it after losing both of his parents to Andross when he was but a teenager. On a different note, he was beginning to become concerned about the trend of increasing violence and hostility towards Corneria; especially from enemies far outside the Lylat System. As far as he knew, the people responsible for whiting out Fichina still had not been identified. The only clues about the enemy were two pictures taken by Cornerian military pilots before they were shot down by the elite enemy strike force. Fox had seen the blurry photographs, which showed the vague outline of an advanced black space fighter that Cornerian pilots had encountered over the icy wilderness planet.

"_They will pay for what they've done," _Fox angrily thought as he scrubbed his fur with a soapy brush, making sure that every particle of dirt was removed from his person. With his shower completed shortly thereafter, Fox shook out his fur and wrapped a towel around his waist before stepping out into his bedroom and into his closet to change into a fresh set of clothes. Having decided to pass the time until Star Fox's scheduled meeting with Peppy by going to the gym; he selected a green t-shirt and a pair of black sweat pants and quickly changed into them. Walking out into his living room area, he found Krystal seated on the red cloth couch, locked in a meditative trance with her eyes tightly closed. Very gently, he sat down next to her and ran his fingers through her hair. The vixen slowly opened her eyes and turned to Fox with a soft smile.

"Krystal, I'm going to the gym to pass the time until the meeting. Do you want to come with me? If we've got time, we can stop at that coffee shop you like afterwards…"

"Of course, Fox," she sweetly replied. "Let me get changed first."

* * *

"Lieutenant General Hare, please come in and sit down."

The old former Star Fox pilot, now dressed in the uniform of a Cornerian lieutenant general, shuffled into the office of General Graves—a well-aged, combat-hardened bald eagle. Smoke rolled off the elderly avian's cigarette, and Peppy tried to bat the oppressive fumes away with his paw. The hare coughed, exhuming the black smoke before taking a seat in front of the General's desk. He addressed Graves and asked, "What is it, sir?"

"Lieutenant General, I need to talk with you about the future of our armed forces. As you might know, it could use some improvements. With all due respect for your friends in Star Fox, we cannot continue to entrust the fate of the Lylat system to mercenaries. The risks are simply too great. We have no excuse for our recent inability to stop Andross and the Aparoids on our own. For the moment, mercenaries are a necessary evil, but it is my goal to gradually filter them out of our employment. I apologize if I've offended you, Lieutenant General, but this has been on my mind for quite some time."

Peppy was not pleased, but he maintained his composure and replied, "I understand, General. However, I have one question for you."

The eagle tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows, asking Peppy what it was without saying a word.

"How do you intend to do this?"

"Right here in front of me, I have a document that will authorize the training of five teams of elite soldiers and reinstate the ONYX battalion into the ranks of the Cornerian Army." He paused, seeing Peppy's puzzled reaction. "I see you are unfamiliar with what this is. Let me explain. ONYX was an experiment first conducted 34 years ago as a means with which to test the feasibility of various experimental technologies, such as genetic augmentation and manipulation."

Peppy's eyebrows furrowed noticeably at the mention of the two ethically-questionable tactics which Andross had been known to be experimenting with before he was exiled to Venom. Assuming a stern expression, he faced the general and flatly asked him, "Was Andross part of this?"

"Yes," he unemotionally replied, "He was presiding over the research effort." He paused to allow the new information to sink into Peppy's mind before continuing, "The first test subjects were taken off death row and subjected to various tests and training exercises designed to push the limits of what was physically possible. The results were impressive, to say the least. It's not a stretch to say that ten of them could do the work of at least 75 marines."

Peppy was still apprehensive about the program, regardless of the amount of praise the avian general leveled at it. "Why haven't I heard of ONYX yet, then?" he asked, almost scoffing at the idea of re-arming the unit.

General Graves laughed quietly while maintaining his typical stern, stone-faced expression, "Because it's classified information, Lieutenant General Hare. If the public were to find out about the unit, it could spark a revolution. ONYX warriors do not technically exist. They have no records, and we made sure that none of them had any ties to the outside world. Even their training location is far removed from the rest of the military. It's going to be a slow transition, but I think that eventually, we'll be able to integrate them into the main part of our army."

"I don't like it," Peppy unhappily muttered. "The Black Ops is already questionable enough as it is; and the last thing we need at a time like this is more controversy." He turned his head away and pondered something before quickly continuing his critique of the general's plan before the eagle had a chance to counter. "You said that you were going to reform the unit. If that's the case, what happened to it in the first place?"

Graves starkly answered, "The unit was deactivated when General Pepper took office, and it went underground for more than a decade following that. Pepper thought the methods of training ONYX soldiers were unethical and decided that it was too much of a liability to have them lying around. I can't blame him."

"Pepper was right, General," Peppy forcefully spoke. "You shouldn't be getting into this. It's wrong on so many levels."

"Okay, then. What's your suggestion? Keep hiring mercenaries?" the eagle snapped, "Listen, Lieutenant General Hare—those days are almost over. We can trust you, Fox, and his team; but they've only got ten more years in them at best. We need a plan for the future. This is our best bet."

Peppy was still unswayed. "I cannot support this, General. If I am forced to oversee anything related to this unit, I will submit my resignation immediately."

"I understand," Graves soberly replied. "Per your request, I will leave you out of this and select someone else to oversee the training. You are dismissed, Lieutenant General."


	2. Chapter 2: Reunion

**Chapter 2: Reunion**

Date and Time: March 18, 10 ALW, 10:23 A.M.

In a dimly-lit room in a skyscraper far above most of the other buildings of an enormous city, a dark-furred, 30-year-old red fox dressed in a gray military-grade trench coat wistfully stared out the copper-colored side window, which took the place of the room's right wall. His coat was weighed down by the numerous metallic badges and emblems affixed to it—most notably, the large silver phoenix medal that was fastened to his right chest pocket. Six gold stars adorned each side of his coat's black shoulder straps, indicating that he was the general that all other generals and high-ranking officers answered to. On the other side of his chest were the numerous pins and medallions he had received in the line of duty. At the table behind him sat his three most trusted generals, who had pledged their undying allegiance to their Supreme Commander.

The first of the generals was a tall black lupine named Blackworth; known by his subordinates to be cold, harsh, and generally unfeeling. He was even younger than his leader, but age or experience was not the determining factor for the office of General. Hunger and the desire for victory superseded both of them in the mind of the Supreme Commander, and Blackworth had both in spades.

The second general was a short coywolf named Irena Volkchelovek. She was known for her skilled marksmanship which she developed over her years of service as a sniper in the Ichtosian military, as well as being the only individual that the Supreme Commander allowed into his personal space. In terms of temperament, she had the tendency to be condescending and overbearing to anyone she deemed 'inferior' to herself; but she was known to lighten up when not engaged with her duties as a general.

The third and final general was a massive Alsatian dog with the glare of a natural-born killer in his fierce brown eyes. His name was Vincent Venucci, and his history was shrouded in mystery. Despite his prodigious strength and might, he was far more intelligent than he appeared; and the Supreme Commander had come to know him as his right hand man, to the point that he would have been willing to hand complete control of the planet over to him if the need arose. At the age of 44, the powerful canine acted as the distinguished elder of the elite circle, in addition to presiding over and coordinating most of the highly trained Ichtosian Assault Force.

The Supreme Commander cleared his throat and turned to face his three generals, looking into each of their eyes with his steely glare. "Thank you for coming," he emotionlessly spoke in a clear and defined, but still youthful voice. "The objective on Fichina has been a success, and the Cornerian Federation is already in turmoil as a result." The red fox cruelly smiled and took a deep breath, relishing the thought of the Climate Control Center crumbling to the ground. "It is time to move on to the next step. Turn your attention to the projector," he ordered, pressing the button on his small remote that controlled the holoprojector in front of the three generals.

The projector produced a blue holographic image of a planet as the Supreme Commander took a seat across from his generals and explained, "This is Katina—the only thing stopping us from reaching Corneria and ripping Lylat from their federation's filthy, corrupt paws and giving it back to who it really belongs to—the people. Our next goal is to eradicate all Cornerian opposition on the planet. The strategy is to hit their orbital defenses hard and fast so they won't get a chance to call for reinforcements. By that time, we'll be on the planet's surface. There are a total of ten outposts on the planet, and these are where most of the planetside military personnel are stationed. We will assemble 50 drop teams with 75 soldiers each. There will be five teams for every outpost. Tanks and gunships will be deployed along with the teams to provide cover fire." Taking a quick breath, he continued, "In the event of a failure to execute the mission profile, we will wait until our independent weapons contractor finishes constructing my dreadnaught. Then, we will take the abandoned military base on Fortuna and use it to launch our final attack on Corneria. If there are no other questions, you are dismissed. Thank you."

* * *

After their invigorating workout, Fox and Krystal rewarded themselves with a break at Krystal's favorite coffee shop, conveniently located less than two miles from Fox's residence. Having already made their purchases, the two vulpine friends sat outside the small building under an opened umbrella at a small, metal table. The crisp, cool air of the Cornerian morning was refreshing by any standard, especially Fox's. Due to his near-constant mercenary work, he was seldom presented with the opportunity to relax. While Krystal nibbled at the small piece of cheesecake she had purchased for herself, Fox looked around the building and noticed a newspaper dispenser for the _Cornerian Post_. The _Post _was the only Cornerian newspaper still in physical print; and it was known to be the most unbiased, factual news source available to the citizens of Corneria. Standing up and digging through his pockets, Fox pulled out two large coins and slid them into the dispenser's narrow slot, causing the front of the dispenser to open and allowing Fox to withdraw his newspaper. He once again took a seat across from Krystal and read through the planetary headlines, which included a labor strike on Southport (the second-largest city on Corneria); the growing unrest on Macbeth; and most importantly, the recent attack on Fichina and the accompanying speculation behind the motives of the aggressor. Fox intently turned to the page where he found a report about the situation with the frozen planet.

"_It has been three days since the Climate Control Center on Fichina was destroyed. All residents of the planet have been assumed dead, and memorial services for all of those killed in this tragic attack will be held on Corneria between March 20 and April 1. The identity of the attackers has yet to be ascertained, but the Cornerian Intelligence Division is hard at work decrypting the limited evidence we have on the enemy that has already left a permanent mark on the Lylat System. On March 15, at precisely 2:04 P.M. CCST, the Cornerian frontier forces stationed on Fichina confirmed an attack on the Center and were dispatched to repel the enemy. We have no record of any survivors, including Captain Fara Phoenix, the leader of the frontier base's fighter squadron. All reports indicate that it was a total loss for the Cornerian forces. Updates on the situation will be provided as it progresses. Most importantly, though; do not be afraid. That is what our enemies want you to do. Prime Minister Schauer, General Graves, and the Cornerian Army will protect the citizens of Corneria and the Lylat System just as they always have. Visit our website for more information and additional coverage of the ongoing search for answers in regard to Fichina."_

Having read all that he cared to see, Fox folded up the newspaper and set it down on the table next to his paper coffee cup. He took a quick sip of the energizing fluid, savoring the taste of his favorite variety of coffee while Krystal slowly finished her slice of cake and cautiously quaffed her decaf roast. Fox glanced at his wrist interface, which indicated to him that he still had more than an hour until the meeting with Peppy and the rest of his team. For now, he wondered what he could do to pass the remainder of the time. Nothing sounded particularly interesting at the moment. His mind was too occupied with the recent attack on Fichina; and the presumed death of his former flight instructor infuriated him. Fara Phoenix was, in reality, Fox's first major crush; and even though their relationship never went anywhere, Fox still felt like a part of him had died with her. As he took another sip of coffee, he heard Krystal ask him, "Fox, what does home mean to you?"

"Home?" he asked in reply, setting his cup down on the table and leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. "For me, home is wherever my friends are. It's not so much of a place as it is a feeling. That's why I was depressed after Falco, Slippy, and Peppy left me. Without family or friends, I don't have a place to belong. Is that what you wanted to know, Krystal?"

"Close enough," she replied. "I was asking that because after Cerinia, the only place I've ever felt like I belonged was with you. You gave me a place to call my own again. I'd like to say that I think of you as a brother rather than a boyfriend; because you're so much better than that. You've always been there to help me, to comfort me, to watch out for me when I don't know what I'm doing. You're like the brother I never had."

Fox reached out his paw, laid it on top of Krystal's blue-furred digits, and gazed into her soft, sea-green eyes. "It's my job to protect my family," he warmly replied, softly stroking her paw. "No one gets left behind as long as I'm in charge of Star Fox."

With the upcoming meeting looming in the distance, Fox and Krystal returned to their apartment, where they changed into their mercenary gear and prepared for their reunion with other half of the Star Fox team.

After departing from one of Corneria City's advanced trains, Fox and Krystal made the short walk to the Cornerian military complex, where they were to meet Peppy, Falco, and Slippy to discuss their upcoming assignments following the unprovoked attack on Fichina. At the front gate, a canine soldier asked to see their I.D. cards, which they gladly handed over for verification before being admitted to the military base. The wide open expanse of concrete before them was covered with various types of military vehicles, including seven military-spec Landmaster tanks and ten heavily armored APCs. A number of new Cornerian space fighters sat in their respective hangars while teams of mechanics swarmed around them, making sure that each and every component was flight-worthy. Viewing the advanced new M2 fighters brought to Fox's mind the news that Space Dynamics' Space Fighter Extension was about to unveil the Arwing Type 2. To this date, only rough sketches and preliminary blueprints of the Arwing's successor had managed to leak out of the highly secretive division; and this only increased the speculations and predictions related to the fighter's introduction into the Cornerian military. One thing was certain, though—Fox had to get his paws on one of them, no matter the expense.

After walking past a row of parked SUVs, Fox and Krystal spotted the hangar where their Arwings were docked. Upon entering the large space, they saw a third Arwing parked on the gray floor next to theirs. "_Probably Slippy,_" Fox guessed. Because the frog spent the majority of his work hours in the military complex with the R&D division, it would have taken him less than five minutes to arrive in Star Fox's dedicated hangar, which was thoughtfully marked with a white version of their winged fox emblem. Falco's Arwing was nowhere to be seen. Deciding not to wait on the tardy ace pilot, Fox and Krystal ascended the staircase on the far right side of the hangar and entered the interior of the base. The metallic passageways created a virtual maze which was very easy to become lost in, but Fox was very familiar with the ins and outs of the base and knew exactly where everything important was located. Knowing this, Krystal closely followed him as he trekked through the halls past numerous marines who stepped aside for him and occasionally apologized for merely being there. Turning a corner and looking down a long hallway overlooking the dining area for stationed troops, Fox noticed the general's office on the right side of the hall. The plain gray door was the same one that belonged to the office when General Pepper was in command of the military, but the print on the frosted glass above the doorknob now read "General Graves."

"Nothing lasts forever," he sadly whispered under his breath, just loudly enough for Krystal to hear. The departure of General Pepper from the military and the proverbial changing of the guard brought a degree of sadness to the vulpine. Pepper was his friend—that is, as much of a friend as the General of the Army could be. The old hound dog would surely be missed. Graves was a capable general, but he lacked a certain amount of heart that General Pepper possessed. The old general was kind and caring in spite of his wearisome duties, but Graves was cold and stark with all his dealings. Very few had even seen the old eagle smile—if only for a split second.

"This isn't the same Corneria I grew up on," Fox continued with sadness written on his face. "Things have changed so much since my dad disappeared. I'd like to think Lylat would be a different place if he were still here. Damn you, Andross. I know you're out there somewhere, laughing hysterically like you always did. I hate you so much, you coward."

It temporarily appeared that his soul was crushed, and he weakly leaned against the wall with his arms crossed above his face. His tail drooped unnaturally low, and his usually-proud ears fell. Krystal had never seen Fox this heartbroken before. They had been through many difficult challenges together, but Fox's greatest test was in overcoming the loss of his mother and father. To this day, their deaths still haunted him; and he retrospectively wondered if there was anything he could have done to save their lives. Revenge against Andross could not fill the void their departures had left inside of him. Nothing ever could.

Soon, Falco confidently ambled up the hall and turned the corner before noticing Fox grieving over his past losses. His elated mood disintegrated immediately; and he quickly felt sorry for his leader, although he didn't show it. "What happened to him?" he whispered into Krystal's ear.

"He's sad that things around here can't stay the same," the vixen softly replied. "He wants Corneria to go back to the way it was when his father was alive."

"I get him," the avian solemnly spoke. "Things really are different now. It's not the same planet anymore—and there's nothing we can do about it." Falco walked up to Fox and clapped him on the shoulder. The vulpine angrily turned to his wingman, his eyes full of anger and hatred—not towards him, but towards Andross, the Aparoids, and every other villain that had irreversibly changed Lylat for the worse. "Listen, buddy," Falco spoke, trying to encourage his friend and leader, "We'll get through this, just like we always have."

Fox nearly cried as he forced himself to make a reply. "I'm tired of fighting wars that don't change anything, Falco," he sobbed, "When this is all over, I'm putting the wraps over my Arwing and leaving it all behind."

"Don't say that, Fox!" Falco exclaimed, grabbing Fox's shoulders and pulling him from against the wall so he was forced to look into Falco's intense eyes. "We've saved Corneria twice, or three times if you count Andross over Sauria. If we hadn't been there to help, Lylat as we know it wouldn't exist."

"I know, Falco," Fox snapped, "But if this cycle keeps repeating, and Corneria keeps coming under fire; we're eventually going to run into an enemy we can't defeat. What will we do then?"

"Well…" Falco trailed off, unable to formulate a suitable answer. Disappointed, he lowered his eyes and stared at Fox's boots.

"I thought so."

"Come on, you two," Krystal softly spoke, placing a paw on Fox's shoulder. "We've got a meeting to go to."

The short remainder of the distance to Peppy's office was spent in absolute silence. Fox was in the worst mood Krystal or Falco had seen him in since Pigma made off with the core memory from the colossal Aparoid he had bravely faced on Katina a year ago. He grudgingly led the way to the office, and upon reaching the door marked "Lieutenant General Hare," he opened it and courteously held it for Falco and Krystal; although truthfully, he wanted to slam it in Falco's face just so he could take out his anger on something.

Peppy's office was well-furnished with a bookshelf, a desk, and several antique trimmings that added a touch of elegance to the otherwise stark room. One window behind Peppy's desk allowed a fair amount of sunlight into the room, although it wasn't quite enough to sufficiently illuminate it. On top of the wooden desk sat a computer, several files and folders, and two pictures—one of his late wife Vivian, and the other of his daughter Lucy. Peppy reclined in his black leather chair, basking in the light coming in through the window. Slippy had already entered the office and seated himself in front of Peppy's desk. The other three members of Star Fox quickly followed suit and took their places before the Lieutenant General.

"Thank you for coming, team," he jovially said before the tone of his voice changed and became more serious. "Now, as you all know, the Climate Control Center on Fichina was completely destroyed. This is not a one-time thing. The enemy responsible for this will be coming back for more, and we need to be ready from them. Seeing as you don't have a ship, I've made arrangements for you to stay onboard the battleship _Cardinal_.

"C'mon, Gramps! Are you _sure _you couldn't buy us a new ship? Military discount…" Falco scraped his thumb and index finger together, simulating rolling paper money.

"Sorry, Falco—not this time. It's unfortunate, but a ship like the _Great Fox _is off limits to all of you now for political reasons. Cornerian leadership doesn't think it's a good idea for mercenaries to be able to get their hands on a dreadnaught-class battleship. I just learned last week that we weren't even supposed to have the _Great Fox _in the first place. From what I found, it was built for a secretive military organization and sold illegally to Fox's father."

"Oh, that's just great!" Fox griped, "So, what _are_ we allowed to buy?

"Sadly, the most a mercenary group can realistically expect to buy is a class-C cruiser. Your past achievements might allow you to move up to something a bit nicer, but that would be pushing it. There's no way anyone's going to let you commission another dreadnaught, that's for sure."

Fox and Falco were very disappointed, and both of them lowered their heads in frustration regarding the Cornerian leaders' restrictions on mercenary purchases. "Damn it," Fox quietly spoke.

"Sorry, Fox—it's just how it is," Peppy sadly replied. "The _Cardinal _is awaiting your arrival. The sooner you get there, the better. Make sure you bring everything you want with you, because you might be on the ship for quite some time. Good luck, team. I'll be in contact with you as much as you need me. You are dismissed."

Once outside Peppy's office in the hallway, Falco unhappily remarked, "Peppy's changed. It's like someone shoved a stick up his rear end. He used to be cool, but now he's got a nasty case of officer-itus.

"Being in office does that to people, Falco. I'm not happy about this either, but we'll find a way to get a _real_ replacement for the _Great Fox_." Fox tried to sound convincing, but he was even less certain about the possibility of getting a new ship than Falco was. His enthusiasm for his work had been crushed yet again by more rules restricting their freedoms as mercenaries. This was to be expected, though. Most mercenaries weren't capable of handing the power of such immense weapons like battleships and even some of the new advanced fighters that had recently crept out of the Space Dynamics skunk works. Star Fox was the rare exception, and laws didn't favor exceptions.

"Dream on, Fox. Sorry, but I don't think it's going to happen again. How much did the _Great Fox_ cost? 1.6 _billion_? Come on, man—it's just not possible to get that kind of money anymore. Your dad caught a lucky break. Just admit it and move on. At least we've still got the Arwings. They _are_ still the best fighters out there, right?"

"Yeah. Maybe…" Fox leaned up against the wall again and put his head to the metal surface as Falco, Krystal, and Slippy stopped and looked at him.

"F…Fox? What's wrong?" Slippy uneasily asked.

"I'll explain later," Fox replied, turning his head but not taking his weight off the wall. "Let's meet back in the hangar at 4:00 this evening. I need some time to myself before we leave for the _Cardinal._"

"You got it, Fox," Falco confirmed, stepping closer to Fox and quietly speaking to him, "I hope you feel better, pal. It's not good to see you like this."

"I know, Falco. Don't worry, though—I'll get through it," he weakly replied.

* * *

An hour later found Fox in his apartment's bathtub. He rarely ever bathed, mainly for time-related reasons, but also because he didn't think of it as being particularly manly. The chief reason he was here was because Krystal had suggested it to him as a way to relax after the unexpected episode of depression he had experienced in the military complex. In minutes, the blue vixen cautiously opened the unlocked bathroom door and stepped inside; carrying a glass filled with a yellow liquid Fox was unfamiliar with. She kindly handed it to him before leaning up against the copper tub near Fox's head and inquiring about his affinity for the drink, which she had made herself using various flavorings and herbs. It was supposed to be a close replica of a well-liked Cerinian juice drink; but because certain flavorings that were readily available on Cerinia did not exist on Corneria, it could never completely mimic the rich flavor of Krystal's indigenous source of refreshment.

"It's not bad," said Fox, taking several sips of the unusual drink. "It's very unique—I can't say I've ever had anything like it before."

Krystal smiled in approval and explained, "I tried to make it taste like my favorite drink from Cerinia. The herbs I put in it are supposed to help you relax." She lightly dipped her paw in the soapy water and playfully splashed some of it onto Fox's muzzle. "I'll be right back. Don't move."

A minute later, the Cerinian re-entered the room carrying a small chair and a scented candle, which she lit and placed on the nearby sink before sitting down on the wooden chair next to the bathtub. The smell of cinnamon began to fill the room as Krystal asked her friend, "Did you mean what you said back at the base? Are you really going to quit after this whole thing is finished?"

A sad expression crossed Fox's lips, and he sighed deeply, causing the warm, calm water around him to ripple. "Yes, Krystal," he replied, "I just have a feeling about this—almost like it's time to leave it behind and let the Lylat System fend for itself."

Krystal frowned and sorrowfully gazed into her leader's similarly despondent eyes. From the first day she had known him, she recognized that he was a hero who always put the safety of others above his own. He had gone out of his way to save her on Sauria, and his heroic actions during the Aparoid war set him apart in her eyes as a distinguished soldier and a strong warrior. She could not have predicted that he would come to this. Everyone had a breaking point, and perhaps Fox had finally reached his. She felt that her adventures had only just begun; unlike Fox, who had been in the mercenary business for ten years and experienced more in that brief window of time than most would in their entire lives. Then again, Fox was six and a half years older than Krystal and was naturally expected to have gone through more in his life than she had. While she was due to celebrate her 21st birthday in roughly half a year, Fox was already 28 years of age. This partially explained why their friendship more closely resembled that of a brother and sister rather than a boyfriend and girlfriend. The age difference between them was significant; but not significant enough to prevent them from sharing mutual feelings for each other.

Krystal pulled back her right sleeve and submerged her arm in the cloudy water, rubbing Fox's chest and bringing a fleeting smile to his lips. "No one said we couldn't leave the Lylat System and take our adventures elsewhere," said Krystal soothingly. "If your heart takes you somewhere else, I'll be right there with you."

Fox reached for Krystal's drenched paw and brought it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the back of her hand and warmly replying, "Thank you, Krystal." The vixen stood up to leave the room, but before she could touch the doorknob, Fox quietly murmured, "Do you mind? I'd really like it if you stayed here with me."

She softly replied, "It's not a problem, Fox. I'll do whatever makes you feel better." Once again, she took her seat next to Fox and thoughtfully stroked his shoulder. In time, Fox's angst and remorse faded away, and he was finally able to look at his circumstances in a positive light. He still had his team, his money, a place to stay; and of course, a sweet blue vixen to enjoy life with. What more could he ask for?

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: _

_Before anyone attempts to correct me about Krystal's age, please allow me to explain. In this particular body of work, I've set Krystal's birthday as September 23, because that was the original launch date of Star Fox: Adventures (the first game to feature Krystal, as you all know). Assuming that she was 19 at the time of Adventures and 20 at the time of Assault, the date of the events in this fanfiction leaves her several months short of her 21st birthday. _


	3. Chapter 3: The Imperial Ultimatum

**Chapter 3: The Imperial Ultimatum**

Date and Time: March 18, 10 ALW, 4:15 P.M.

The _Cardinal _came into view of the four Arwing pilots who had just left Corneria's atmosphere. The Titanium-class battleship was the pride of the Cornerian fleet and the product of five years worth of research and development. The Aparoid invasion temporarily halted its production; but with all the plans for its construction already in place, it was completed six months after the end of the war. The long, streamlined ship sported a delta wing design along with a tail fin that started halfway down the ship's hull and slowly curved upwards. Two huge main guns were attached to the bottom of the ship just below the hangar entrance, which was similar to that of the _Great Fox_. However, this hangar was much more spacious. Unlike the dreadnaught, which was designed with a team of commandoes in mind, the _Cardinal _was required to be capable of holding fifteen fighters, five transports, and ten Landmaster tanks. The large, advanced ship was able to be piloted by one person, but three individuals were always on deck for this purpose. The ship's living quarters contained enough room for 125 soldiers, but at the moment, only 50 were on board. There would be plenty of rooms for Star Fox to choose from.

Fox spoke into his head-mounted interface, "This is Fox McCloud of the Star Fox team requesting permission to land in the main hangar bay."

"Copy that, Fox McCloud. You are cleared for entrance."

Fox led his comrades on a path to the left of the battleship, flying a half-mile out from the ship before turning his Arwing around and making a path straight for the ship's open hangar. He looked up at the ship's heavily plated silver hull before the view was replaced with the white lights of the expansive hangar. Twelve M2 fighters were mounted onto tracks on the left side of the hangar at a 45-degree angle relative to the hangar exit, ready for deployment; while three heavy dropships rested on the floor to the right. The tracks on the hangar floor slowly curved until they aligned with the straight tunnel of the hangar entrance. Fox hadn't seen this particular type of launch system before, but he reckoned that it must have been much smoother than the _Great Fox'_s vomit-inducing, barrel-rolling exit strategy.

He saw four empty rail spaces on the left side of the floor, and the Arwing automatically adjusted for the landing on the one closest to him. The silver and blue ship slowly rotated around and hovered down to the floor, where a mechanized grip rose up and clipped onto the Arwing's fuselage before pulling the fighter back against its respective docking station where fuel could be added and maintenance could be completed. A message appeared on the Arwing's dash interface that read, "Docking successful. Clear to exit." Fox pressed the button to open his canopy, releasing it with its familiar hissing sound. The vulpine smoothly clambered down the ship's right wing and watched as his teammates' Arwings landed the same way his did. After each member of Star Fox had pulled their luggage out of their Arwings' nose-mounted cargo bays, a coyote in an officer's uniform greeted Fox and his crew and led them out of the hangar to the part of the ship where they would be staying in. The living quarters were neatly organized, with each room containing a bunk bed, a small ergonomic bathroom, a drafting table, and a metallic dresser with a large mirror above it.

"Don't worry—you can each get a room to yourself if you'd like," the coyote said. "We don't usually let that slide, but you're special passengers."

"Thank you, sir," Fox replied.

"Not a problem. Farther down the hall, you'll find the cafeteria and the assembly area, and if you take the stairs back down to the base level, you'll run into the combat simulators. It's always a good idea to make sure you're ready for anything. The simulators are state-of-the-art units developed with the help of the Cornerian military's finest Marines, and they're always open. This ship does not observe a curfew. Come and go as you please, but please refrain from making excessive noise in this area of the ship at all times. Meals will be served at 0800 hours, 1300 hours, and 1800 hours in the cafeteria. Have a nice stay on the _Cardinal_, Star Fox."

The coyote officer walked off towards the bridge, leaving Star Fox to choose their rooms. Falco and Slippy eagerly rolled their suitcases into the rooms adjacent to where they were standing, while Fox chose the first room across the hall and walked into it. Krystal followed him in and laid her suitcase on its back in front of the bunk bed before pulling her clothes out of her small blue suitcase and neatly placing them in the lower left drawer of the room's dresser. While the Cerinian attended to her clothing, Fox examined the white-painted bathroom; which contained a toilet, a sink, and a very rudimentary shower with a white curtain that looked uncomfortably translucent. All of the floors in the room were the same metallic gray as the flooring in the rest of the ship.

Fox placed his paws on the insides of the bathroom's door frame and used it to support himself. "This still doesn't beat the _Great Fox_," he said, reflecting back on the time spent in the ship his father had handed down to him. "It's too cold and too harsh."

"I agree," said Krystal. "This ship is just metal. The _Great Fox_ was more than that—it was almost a family member, in a strange way."

Fox lowered his head and mused about the ship he and his team had been stationed in for an undetermined period of time. Star Fox's hiatus was definitely over now. Duty had called once again, and for the first time in almost a year, Fox was forced to reacquaint himself with the trappings of military life. This would normally be a cause of celebration for him; but something about the events surrounding his return to his Arwing's cockpit was wrong, and he couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe it was because Peppy was no longer with them in person, or perhaps it was due to the cold, lifeless tone which the Cornerian military infrastructure was starting to take on. Whatever it was, it was eating him up inside.

"Cheer up, Fox!" said Krystal, trying to seem upbeat. Fox weakly smiled, but his heart was weighing on him heavily. Lowering her eyes and unhappily frowning, Krystal attempted to think of something fun that she and Fox could do that would change his mood for the better.

"Hey, do you feel like taking me on in the simulators? I need to polish up on my piloting skills," she eagerly suggested.

"Sure," he halfheartedly replied, "I guess I could use a bit of training myself." Krystal offered Fox her blue paw, and he reached over and took hold of it as they walked out of their new living quarters into the _Cardinal's _second-level hallway. The halls and floors were both coated with gunmetal paint, and many small, rectangular lights on level with the vulpines' eyes illuminated the narrow hallway, which was silent and empty. Most of the other troops onboard were in their own quarters minding their own business. Fox and Krystal descended the steep flight of stairs down to the third level, where the cafeteria, assembly area, and the simulation area were located. An illuminated sign on the right side of the hallway—painted white, unlike the second level—read "Training Area."

Still holding Krystal's delicate paw, Fox stepped into the room; which was actually a conglomerate of three other rooms. In the first was a simple firing range for rifle practice; in the second, the space combat simulator; and in the third, a semi-live fire training room for tactical combat training. A burly husky soldier was the sole occupant of the firing range. The firing booths were sealed off from the rest of the room by a sheet of Plexiglas for sound reduction purposes, but Fox and Krystal could still see the trooper consistently and very quickly knocking down the blue holographic targets four hundred yards down the indoor firing range. Fox decided that he would give it a shot, seeing as he needed the practice anyway. Krystal followed him through the soundproof door into the firing area, where a large suite of combat rifles were assembled with the barrels facing up in an opened metallic ordnance case. No blasters were present. These were all heavy-duty weapons designed for power over efficiency. The red vulpine selected an M27-style plasma rifle and snatched up two full plasma batteries, remembering not to load them until he took his seat in a firing booth. Krystal took an identical weapon and followed her leader into the firing area, where the husky soldier's shots could be heard very audibly. The plasma rifles were not near as noisy as ballistic weapons, but they were still capable of creating significant ear fatigue if they were used too often in a short period. The blue vixen took a seat in the booth next to Fox, with the crack-shot husky five seats to her left. Each booth was open in the back with two side walls for privacy and safety.

Fox clipped in the first magazine-shaped plasma battery and pulled back the charging handle, letting it snap back into place with a satisfying metallic click. He then switched the black rifle's four-way select fire switch to its 'semi-auto' setting and took aim at the target on the far right side of the firing range. After making sure that his gun's laser sight was aligned with the holographic target on the right, he pulled the trigger. The recoil from the M27-P was much greater than that of his blaster and surprised him slightly, but the plasma round struck the center of the target and caused it to disappear. To make the target return, he would have to first eliminate the other targets across the range. While he set to work on vaporizing the remaining holograms, Krystal was struggling to hit the distant targets. She felt humiliated by her lack of skill and felt out of place as Fox and the anonymous husky in Booth 3 both rapidly cleared out the range targets one after the other.

"Come on!" she moaned in frustration as yet another round sailed over her target and dissipated against the range's armored back wall.

"Having trouble, Krystal?" Fox compassionately asked, removing his gun's plasma battery and placing it on the steel surface ahead of him along with the rifle itself. He walked over to Krystal's booth and crouched down so that their eyes were on the same level.

"I can't hit anything, Fox," she sadly spoke, "This is so embarrassing. I really want to be good at this!"

Fox placed his paw on Krystal's left arm and kindly explained, "Krys, How long have you even known how to use a gun?"

"Two years?"

"Come on, Krystal. How can you expect to be able to nail targets at this range if you've only been shooting for two years? I've been at it since I was 14, and I know that other guy's probably gone through thousands of plasma batteries in practice alone. Don't expect to be perfect _that_ quickly."

"I…I know, Fox. I just want to prove myself. I want people to see me as a valuable part of your team, not as just another pretty face," she sadly expressed.

Fox was filled with compassion for his close friend. She was worth more to him than any amount of money; but still, she continued to beat herself up for not being able to match him in combat. "Oh, Krystal," he poignantly said, "You don't have to prove anything to me—you've done it already. There's nothing I would ever change about you."

Two tears dropped from Krystal's aquamarine eyes and she sniffled, looking around for a tissue. "Thank you, Fox," she replied, still crying tears of passion in response to Fox's kind words of encouragement. "It's just… I'm tired of being treated like I'm inferior to everyone else because I'm the only one on the team with a talent that can't be measured."

"Don't ever let anyone tell you that you're inferior any of us, Krystal. If you weren't cut out for the team, we would have told you. I've always been impressed with your abilities, and you pick things up so quickly. It seemed like just yesterday when you were asking me how to use the shower on the _Great Fox _because you couldn't figure it out." He smiled retrospectively, thinking about both his and Krystal's embarrassment during that situation.

"Excuse me, ma'am," said a voice behind them. It was the husky who had been in the booth to their left. "You might be using more gun than you can handle. Try this one." He quietly handed a slightly smaller AUG-type rifle to Krystal along with one plasma battery. "Pull back on the trigger smoothly and evenly. Don't let your nerves interfere with the shot. The recoil is not something to be afraid of. Try to relax, and pick your target." The Cerinian clipped in the battery and pressed the rifle's stock into her right shoulder in preparation for the shot. "I'm not going to judge you if you miss," the dog continued, "Just focus on the target." Krystal closed her left eye and looked through the less powerful rifle's reflex sight at her target. Her finger slowly eased back on the trigger before she calmly but forcefully squeezed it in, firing the rifle. The shot solidly impacted the target, and it disappeared. Krystal's frustration immediately disappeared and was quickly replaced with satisfaction from finally hitting her mark.

"Thank you, sir," said Krystal humbly to the large husky.

"You're welcome, miss. Take care," he replied as he turned away and began to leave the firing range.

"Wait!" Fox yelled, "Who are you?"

The husky turned around and spoke, "The name's Bruno Hartmann. Beyond that, I'm not authorized to tell you."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Have a nice day, sir."

Fox and Krystal watched as the secretive trooper walked out the firing room and solidly shut the door behind him before disappearing into the ship's outside hallway. Soon, that door closed as well; and Fox and Krystal were now alone in the simulation and training area.

* * *

Prime Minister Schauer burst through the doors of the Cornerian Army's briefing room, where a large conference table had been set up. General Graves, Lieutenant General Peppy Hare, the PM's attractive vixen secretary, and two canine colonels were seated at the black table, awaiting Schauer's arrival. The flustered vulpine leader angrily took a seat and roared, "This is an outrage! We cannot sit still for this!"

"Calm down, Prime Minister," the aged general assertively spoke, motioning with his wing for Schauer to relax. "What happened?"

The furious Prime Minister explained, "Two hours ago, the Supreme Commander of a planet called 'Ichtos' personally called me and admitted to destroying the Climate Control Center. After that, he asked me to surrender control of Corneria to him in exchange for peace."

"Bulls-t!" the avian general yelled, slamming his wing down on the table forcefully. "What kind of information do we have on this so-called 'Supreme Commander'?"

"Lucy, read them everything you've got on the Supreme Commander of Ichtos," Schauer ordered.

The cute vixen replied, "Sir, we couldn't find much about him other than what's in these few pictures. Take a look." She passed the four photographs of the Ichtosian Generalissimo around to everyone seated at the table until they had all had a good chance to look at the images of their powerful new enemy.

"You couldn't find anything else?" Peppy skeptically retorted.

"No, sir," she quickly replied, "No name, no birthplace, and only a very limited amount of information about how he came into power."

"Let's hear it, then," said General Graves vehemently. "Anything is better than nothing."

The vixen collected her thoughts and took a quick breath of the room's stale air before launching into her discourse on the Supreme Commander's rise to power. "Five years ago, this man led a revolution that overthrew the government of Ichtos, which he now controls. No one knew anything about him when he arrived, but they quickly rallied to his cause and fought for him with anything they could lay their hands on—even baseball bats and pitchforks, in some cases. The people of his planet consider him a savior sent from above, because foxes aren't native to Ichtos. 'Supreme Commander' and 'Great Leader' are the two most common titles for him because he is held in such high esteem that no one dares mention his name. His subjects are fanatically loyal to him, and all of them would be willing to die in his place. Legend has it that he comes from a long line of noble warriors that fought to uphold justice in the system he originated from."

"There's no nobility in what he's done," Graves sullenly remarked. "All I see is a heartless dictator with an appetite for destruction."

"His eyes…" Peppy quietly spoke, pausing quickly before continuing, "…They remind me of someone I used to know. He's got that calm, unspoken confidence that I've only seen once."

"When was that, Lieutenant General?" the Prime Minister enquired.

Peppy rested his chin on his paw and looked upwards, almost as if there was something he saw above him. "It was back in the days when I flew with Star Fox under James McCloud. He had the same attitude about him that this 'Supreme Commander' has. Even if James was afraid, he never showed it. He always had an expression that seemed to say, 'I don't care how impossible this looks—we're going to get through it.'"

"He _does_ look a bit like the old Captain," Graves agreed. "But that's where the similarities end."

The door to the room suddenly opened, and the Prime Minister's aide—a cheetah named Javier— entered and emphatically declared, "Sir, I just received a transmission from Ichtos!"

"Can you get it onto the screen?" Prime Minister Schauer anxiously asked.

"Yes sir," the feline acquiesced, pressing the power button on the black flatscreen television that hung on the wall in front of the meeting room table and calibrating it to match the channel of the incoming message. The blue screen quickly cut to a live feed from an open auditorium on Ichtos. The camera videoing the transmission panned and rotated around the room, allowing the Cornerian staff to catch a glimpse of the teeming throngs of Ichtosian citizens seated inside the magnificent coliseum-like structure. Each and every seat in the building was occupied—even the ones in the darkest reaches of the upper balconies. Even through the video camera, it was clear that the noise inside the open building would have been nearly deafening in person. Seconds later, the three Ichtosian generals ceremoniously stepped onto the enormous, flat, stone stage. All of them were dressed in dark gray military uniforms befitting their rank. The camera zoomed into the stage and focused on the largest of the three—General Venucci. The enormous shepherd dog commandingly marched over to the podium and growled into the small hanging microphone, ordering the boisterous crowd to silence themselves so he could be heard.

"Fellow citizens, it is my honor to present to you— the Supreme Commander of Ichtos!" He practically shouted the second half of his declaration, sending a powerful reverberation throughout the structure that could almost be felt through the TV screen back on Corneria. In response to seeing the hulking canine general, General Graves clenched his winged fists and shook in rage as Peppy turned to him and asked what the matter was.

"I'll explain it later, Lieutenant General," he quietly spoke into Peppy's ear, putting his wing in front of his beak in such a way as to prevent anyone else at the table from being able to hear him.

The two high-ranking officers turned their attention back to the screen as the Supreme Commander of Ichtos took the stage, emotionlessly walking up to the sandstone-colored pedestal while the audience screamed and roared with a ferocity far greater than that which any other event in their culture could create. He made no attempt to express any emotion or connect with the audience in any way. He simply stepped up to the podium and quickly looked back and forth across the cavernous space in front of him before raising his right paw and slowly lowering it as an order for silence. The frenzied spectators immediately grew eerily quiet, and if anyone had dropped a pin in the large building, it would have been easily heard.

"Brothers and sisters, I am yours. You have made me what I am today, and if not for you, I would be nothing. I am proud to be your leader; but now—to the reason I have brought you all here tonight. To you in the audience; to you outside this auditorium; to you at home watching this presentation on your television or your tablet—I am here to tell you that the time has finally come to tear down the bureaucracy that was once the glorious Republic of Corneria. The atrocities they have committed can no longer remain unpunished, and their lies and deception must be brought out for all to see. We must liberate our brothers and sisters on Corneria from the vile clutches of their corrupt politicians and military leaders who will stop at nothing to superimpose their wills upon the people." The vulpine temporarily paused and very faintly smiled, sending chills down the spines of everyone in the Cornerian staff room. Stepping away from the podium onto the open area of the stage, he zealously shouted "Are you with me?"

The capacity crowd yelled at the top of their lungs, causing the building itself to shake slightly.

"ARE YOU WITH ME?"

The noise in the auditorium became so thunderous that citizens more than a mile down the street from the building could hear the audience's pitched screams emanating from it. Satisfied with his people's reaction, the Supreme Commander clenched his fist and raised it high into the air, vehemently proclaiming, "By the power vested in me by each and every one of you, I HEREBY DECLARE WAR ON THE REPUBLIC OF CORNERIA!"

The screams and cheers of the audience managed to grow even louder yet, and they didn't stop for several minutes; even after the Supreme Commander had left the stage.

In the staff room on Corneria, no one dared to speak a word. The Supreme Commander had said everything that needed to be stated.

* * *

After the inharmoniously-resolved meeting that had ended with the Supreme Commander of Ichtos declaring war on Corneria, General Graves and Lieutenant General Peppy Hare stepped into the office belonging to the eagle. Peppy shut the door behind him and pulled up a chair in front of Graves's desk while the aged avian produced a bottle of brandy from his desk and poured a shot for both himself and the hare. Graves lifted his diminutive glass and proposed a toast as Peppy raised his as part of the formality. "To victory," he said, lightly tapping his glass against Peppy's and drinking its contents.

With the toast completed, the general placed the two shot glasses behind his file folders and leaned back in his chair, crossing his winged arms in the process. "So, you wanted to know why I was angry when I saw that shepherd on the screen?" he asked, unemotional as always.

Peppy nodded in reply. "Yes, sir."

Graves leaned forward and crossed his arms on his heavy oaken desk as he replied, "That was Vincent Venucci; former member of ONYX unit Lambda and the best soldier I ever met. I knew him since he was a boy in an orphanage. It was our job to find unwanted children of certain 'physically superior' species who had reached the age where adoption was unlikely. We gave those children a new lease on life; we gave them a place to live; and most importantly, we gave them something to live for. You see, when Vincent vanished seven years ago, he didn't just leave ONYX—he left his family. Those units were raised together and taught to care for one another as if they were brothers and sisters. Nothing binds things together better than blood. That's the premise behind ONYX. Anyway, back to Vincent. He was always one step ahead of all the others. His critical thinking skills would have suited him for a Field Marshall's position at least; but I always had the feeling that he was too smart for his own good. Even though he loved his 'family'—Bruno, Jaclyn, Dev, Xavier—he always seemed to wander off on his own when no one was watching. It was interesting to me and my co-workers that he would always take the lead role in a dangerous situation. In that respect, he was like the protective father to the rest of his family. He would blame himself whenever anyone else got hurt in the line of duty, like when Xavier broke his arm in a fall out of an APC while trying to gun down some of Andross's worst while riding on the wheel well. That cat almost died that day; and I think it did something to Vincent, because he started to become overly protective of the rest of the unit. Now that I think of it, I know why he left Corneria. He left when Jaclyn was killed. Her death left an irreparable scar on both Bruno and Vincent—especially Bruno, because he was in love with her. In fact, I believe she was pregnant when she was killed. Two days after she died, we never saw Vincent again. His fighter was still in the hangar with all the others, but he was nowhere to be found. It makes me angry to see him up there with that tyrant now. I wonder what he sees in him, anyway. Vincent was never the kind of man to let someone else force his will on him."

"I have a suggestion, General," Peppy interjected. General Graves shot him a quick glance, asking for him to elaborate. "I think it's possible that the Supreme Commander may have also lost someone who meant something to him," the hare explained.

"Possibly," Graves replied, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling with an absent gaze that caused Peppy to believe that he was pondering something.

"What is it, General?" Peppy asked.

"Something about that fox…" he muttered, "I know I've seen him before. I'm going to see if I can't dig through some of the records from the Lylat Wars and find something interesting. If I do, would you like me to tell you about it?"

"Of course, sir."

"Fair enough then, Lieutenant General," the avian replied, trying to sound hospitable but failing to break the mold of his constantly serious attitude. "Leave me here so I can get to work."

"Yes, sir."


	4. Chapter 4: The Calm Before the Storm

**Chapter 4: The Calm Before the Storm**

Date and Time: March 24, 10 ALW, 4:15 P.M.

"All members of the 6th aerospace wing please report to hangar 2. Repeat—all members of the 6th aerospace wing please report to hangar 2 within thirty minutes of the current time. Mission is a go."

General Irena Volkchelovek stepped away from Hangar 2's intercom system in its command room and walked out into the main hangar area, observing the large numbers of black and red Ichtosian fighters and gunships docked in their respective stations on the white hangar floor. She had been assigned with a task that would dwarf General Blackworth's earlier offensive strike against Fichina. It was her responsibility to lead the attack on Katina, and a lot was riding on the success of this mission. The Supreme Commander had created a contingency plan in case of a problem, but she knew that failure was unacceptable. The coywolf, who stood 5 feet and five inches tall—short for her species—returned to the Ichtosian capital building and rode the ornately decorated elevator up to the tenth floor, where her leader kept his office. She stepped quickly out of the elevator and walked up to the Commander's staff room door, placing her head up against the wooden surface and listening for any movement. All was silent. This meant that her leader was in his private space in the large suite. The coywolf quietly turned the doorknob to the staff room and stepped inside, quickly scanning the room for any unwanted guests that might have been present. Very discreetly, she stepped over to the door to the Supreme Commander's private suite on the staff room's left wall and lightly tapped at it with her paw.

Her leader's unhappy voice came from the room. "Who is it? I hope this is important," he growled impatiently, not at all in the mood to be disturbed.

"It's General Volkchelovek. May I come in?"

The Supreme Commander's voice changed noticeably as he replied, "Sure. Hang on for just a second." The sound of bare feet crossing a hardwood floor was able to be heard before the doorknob clicked and the door swung open, revealing the Supreme Commander. He was dressed in a snug-fitting black t-shirt and baggy camo military-grade cargo pants—very dissimilar to what he wore in front of his officers and the public. This suite was his bastion of solitude where he could go and not be disturbed; and his attire matched the laid-back feel of the well-decorated room. The suite was arrayed like a hotel room and contained a good-sized kitchen, several couches and chairs in the living area along with a flat screen TV, and a lavishly-appointed bedroom and bathroom. The vulpine had set the TV to a sporting news channel and brewed himself a hot cup of coffee, which sat on the glass table between the main gray couch and the TV.

He placed his paw on Irena's shoulder and bade that she come in with him. "You're always welcome in here, Irena," he thoughtfully spoke, "I can't say that about anyone else. Please, take off your jacket—it looks like it's choking you."

Volkchelovek complied and unbuttoned her black officer's jacket, hanging it on a coat hook next to her leader's gray trench coat. She wore only a black tank top under her jacket, but she felt comfortable this way in front of her leader. The coywolf was the only real female company that the dark red fox cared to have around him. She had been one of the first to follow him in his initial rebellion against Ichtos's previous regime, and over the years, their friendship had grown very close—even intimate at times. The Commander flopped down on the gray couch and encouraged her to pour herself a drink and sit down with him. The coywolf selected a white frosted bottle of vodka from the overhead wine rack in the kitchen and cracked it open, pouring herself a half-cup of her favorite beverage. She would have preferred to have completely filled her glass, but drinking too much alcohol before a mission was never a good idea. With her drink in hand, Irena strolled over to the living room and took a seat next to her leader, who wasted no time in putting his left arm around her shoulders.

The fox took a sip of his coffee with his free right paw and placed it back on the table before asking his lady-friend, "What brought you back up here?"

"I'm nervous," she quickly replied, taking a quick sip of her vodka.

"About the mission?" he asked. Irena nodded her head in response to his question. Her leader quickly assured her, "Don't worry about it, Irena. My view of you is based on you as a person, not as a leader. You can't possibly go wrong in my eyes."

"I'm just a bit concerned about… you know… failure," she softly explained. "You even came up with a backup plan. I've never seen you do that before."

"That's because failure is a definite possibility."

"So I _do_ have a reason to be nervous, then?"

The Commander lightly chuckled and turned his body towards Irena, explaining to her, "Failure is always an option. It's not always the best option, but sometimes it's the only way forward. Some of the greatest successes in history have come after the worst of defeats. Sometimes, you have to make it through the night to see how beautiful the morning is."

"Mmm… nicely spoken, Commander," the coywolf murmured. "Did you come up with that on your own?"

"Yes, I did," he proudly replied, taking another sip of coffee then placing it on the table again. "Don't worry about screwing up the mission, Irena. All I can ask for from anyone is that they give it their all. If everything they've got isn't enough, that's unfortunate; and it means that we'll have to reevaluate ourselves as a military power. The dark fox gently feathered his paw over Irena's collar bone region and carefully lifted the heart-shaped pendant off of her neckline. He curiously ran his green eyes over the golden charm that he held in his paw and asked, "What's this? Does it mean anything?"

Irena quietly answered, "It's a memento of my family and my birthplace. Just like you, I'm not from around here. My father abandoned my mother before I was born, and she gave everything she had just to raise me while trying to provide for herself." Irena lowered her head in sadness as she continued, "She sent me here when I was 16 so I could have a hope for the future. It cost her everything she had just to pay for that flight. I never heard from her again after that."

"I'm sorry," the Commander somberly said, "I can relate."

"How so?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got time," Irena soberly spoke.

The Supreme Commander of Ichtos exhaled a deep breath of air and told her, "Not right now, Irena. I'm not in the mood. It only brings back bad memories, and I'm in here to escape from them."

"I understand, Commander," the coywolf replied. "Memories can be unkind. If only there was a way to alter the past. Maybe the present would be nicer if we could."

"Maybe, but it's not wise to wish for things that won't ever happen. The past is gone. It's not coming back. There is only the future now."

"I know. It was just… wishful thinking, that's all," she replied with her head lowered to her chest.

After hearing her leader out, the coywolf looked up and blankly stared into the TV screen in the Commander's living room. Her glass of vodka was almost dry, and it was almost time to initiate the invasion of Katina. The dark fox seated next to her kindly squeezed her neck, and the coywolf sighed with relief. Her position as General was extremely stressful, and she couldn't even begin to imagine what it must have been like to have her leader's job. Somehow, he managed to take it in stride. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. Over the years, his following as a leader had become so great that many considered him to be a godsend and a blessing on their planet. Foxes were virtually non-existent on Ichtos, which meant that he was almost as unique as the blue-furred Krystal was in the Lylat System. His species' rarity only increased his mystique, and his citizens were fiercely loyal to him. He possessed what was known as the "cult of personality," and almost anything he did was met with the near-complete approval of his people.

"Thanks for stopping by, Irena," he softly spoke before continuing, "It's time for you to get moving. I'm sorry, but I can't come with you on this one. Don't worry about failing the mission, General—I know you'll give it your best. That's all I can ask for."

"Yes, sir. I will," she replied, taking one final swig of vodka and standing up.

"One more thing, General," said the Commander quickly as he rose to his feet and locked lips with his beloved friend, who made no attempt to resist him. "That was for luck," he explained, smiling from ear to ear. "Take care of yourself, Irena. I know you can do this."

"Thank you, sir," she thankfully replied before throwing on her military jacket and leaving the Supreme Commander's suite.

* * *

After their eventful time spent in the _Cardinal'_s firing range, Fox and Krystal walked through the door into the adjacent room, which contained the combat flight simulators. Fox held the door for his lovely blue friend and then followed her up to the entrance to one of the eight boxy, white enclosures. They looked nothing like fighters, but inside each metallic structure was a simulated fighter cockpit. Hydraulically controlled beams below the simulators held them up and provided them with accurate g-force simulations.

Krystal quickly climbed the short staircase to the second simulator and closed the low, white door behind her, leaving Fox to take the one next to hers. Once inside, the two vulpines dropped into the internal cockpits, which were taken directly from Cornerian M-Class fighters. The unlit dashboard interfaces in the simulators were very similar to their Arwings' units, although the simulated dashboards contained extra switches and buttons that were used for simulating fighters with more advanced controls than the Arwing. Fox pressed the green START button on the far left side of the dashboard and used the flight stick to scroll down through the options on the screen that was displayed on his computerized canopy glass. He saw on the top right of his canopy projection that simulator 2 was online, so he activated his communication line with Krystal and invited her into his group.

"Do you want to do a co-op or a free-for-all, Krys?" he asked.

"Free-for-all, please," she happily replied.

Fox selected the 'vs. mode' option from the list and was brought to the mission select screen. Krystal could see what her party's host was doing through her screen, but she decided not to interfere with his decision. Fox indecisively scrolled left and right through the options before deciding on a free-for-all score attack with enemy A.I. spacecraft. Finally, he selected a simulation of the forest on Fortuna as the location for their game. Krystal and Fox were both given the opportunity to select their preferred type of fighter, and Fox immediately selected the Arwing Mk. II that he was most familiar with. Krystal, on the other hand, was curious about some of the other options. Fox rested his head on one of his paws waiting for her to select her fighter while she browsed through the twenty available simulated spacecraft, which included everything from the original Arwing to three originally-created concept fighters. After deliberating on her options, the Cerinian selected the M1 EVO; a modified one-off version of the original M-class fighter with increased engine output and maneuverability.

A countdown from 5 appeared on both of their screens as they slowly faded to black and switched to the loading screen showing a picture of the level they would be playing on. Every switch and button that would have been used on an Arwing lit up on Fox's dashboard, with the simulator's five extra switches and buttons remaining dark. Krystal's layout was essentially the same, give or take one or two switches. The loading screen finally closed, and the two pilots found themselves above Fortuna's rain forest in their simulation. A short beep signaled the start of their round, and both vulpines hit the thrusters and banked in opposite directions, trying to find targets to shoot down. Fox smiled in response to the familiar feeling of piloting his Arwing. This simulator was good—he had to admit that. He tried barrel rolling, and found it to be just as jarring and unsettling as it was in reality. Everything about his simulated Arwing was exactly like the real thing. Years of research and testing had resulted in a simulator that would allow cadets to learn the ropes of combat piloting without ever setting foot in an actual fighter. This was a huge leap forward in terms of training and cost-effectiveness for the Cornerian Army.

Krystal looked at her radar and saw five incoming targets on the green screen on her dashboard and moved to engage the enemy while Fox did the same on the other side of the map. The system had intentionally spawned them on opposite parts of the map so they would be temporarily unable to shoot each other down, but it was still probable that they would meet at some point. Krystal fell in behind the opening wave of M-Class bogies and quickly gunned them down with her superior ship, feeling the shots from the underbody cannon shaking her seat. The score gauge on the right side of the canopy indicated that for the moment, Krystal was ahead with 50 points; but Fox was just getting warmed up. The enemy waves began to increase in difficulty, but Krystal still clung to a wire-thin lead after three minutes in the simulator. The enemies were now piloting Arwing Mk. II's like Fox's, and they were beginning to use more effective tactics. The hard-pressed Cerinian wondered what the advanced waves would look like as she pulled a loop to fall in behind a simulated Arwing and quickly fired upon it. The simulated fighter exploded brilliantly in midair, and Krystal powered through the wreckage unscathed. However, three tangos flew in behind her and opened fire on her ship, causing the simulator to oscillate violently as the frantic vixen barrel rolled to the right and hit the brakes to escape from the sudden barrage. The damage gauge next to the radar read 46%, which did not bode well for her if she were to face Fox in a one-on-one dogfight.

As the waves progressed, the scores for individual targets increased; and in just under a minute, a mechanical voice indicated that Fox had overtaken her score and was now in the lead. At this point in the simulation, the Arwings were replaced by Arwing 2 prototypes; and a handful of original fighters began to creep into the airspace. Fox and Krystal were both outgunned now. They would have to rely on superior technique and skill to defeat the enemies which now piloted superior machinery. Fox punched his accelerator to catch up to an original fighter marked as the 'Scourge-20', only to have it perform a lightning-quick horizontal loop and reappear directly behind him with all guns blazing. The rapidly-discharged plasma machine-gun fire ripped into his virtual fighter's fuselage with ferocious intensity, setting off alarms inside the canopy. He watched helplessly as the green forest below him grew closer and closer until his ship slammed into a tree, ending the round.

The single overhead light came back on, and the simulator's dashboard darkened as Krystal's jubilant voice came over the intercom. "I won!"

"Yeah, maybe this time," Fox grumbled, "But you got lucky. If that Scourge hadn't shot me down, I would have smoked you."

"Nice try, Fox; but you still lost," she cutely taunted.

Krystal climbed out of her seat and opened the simulator door. The light in the simulation room was blinding after she had spent almost ten minutes in the near-complete darkness of the simulator, and she reflexively shielded her eyes from the intense white plasmatic lighting. Fox soon came to her side, still seething from his loss.

Krystal playfully tickled his muzzle and happily said, "Don't take it so hard, Fox! It's just a game!"

"When I play those things, it's more than just a game to me," said Fox seriously, "If I can't beat a computer, what can I beat?"

"I'd say computers are a good challenge, Fox. They do things you wouldn't expect from a living person," Krystal soothingly replied.

Fox had to admit that she was right. Her words had a way of penetrating into his heart more deeply than anyone else's could ever hope to. Even in defeat, he looked into her eyes and smiled internally. She was so happy and carefree. Even more, she was almost beyond beautiful to him. Fox felt like he would melt away if he looked into those expressive aquamarine eyes for too long. Her soul—her being—seemed to give off an aura that Fox drank in like an intoxicating elixir that drew him even closer to her. In the ensuing moment, his passion for her quickly turned to lust, and he burned for her. His mind ran out of control in the moment, and he didn't realize that Krystal was reading his thoughts.

The vixen placed a firm but loving paw on his chest and calmly spoke, "Not yet, Fox. Not yet."

"_Not yet._" The same words that he had unwisely spurted out on Sauria after Prince Tricky told him that he would be preparing planet Sauria for their honeymoon. That was the first real spark of a relationship between the two vulpines. After that, it was impossible for Fox to deny that he was interested in Krystal. Of course, Krystal knew this already; but she was more than willing to wait for Fox to admit that he was ready for something more than just a simple camaraderie. The Cerinian slowly crept forward, pushing her paw deeper into his chest before quickly leaning forward and placing a quick kiss on his lips.

"Stop tempting me, Krystal!" he exclaimed, almost yelling.

Krystal giggled and turned away from him so he could clearly see her shapely hindquarters, accentuated by her form-fitting attire.

"Oh man—please stop it! You're going to kill me if you keep acting like that!" Fox demanded, "How am I going to sleep tonight?"

"With me right above you," Krystal adorably answered, swishing her tail and maintaining her provocative pose in front of Fox, "…Although I could try to squeeze in with you in your bunk if you'd like…"

She listened into Fox's thoughts with a huge smile painted on her face, "_NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! Don't do it! What are you thinking?! Come on! Snap out of it!"_

The sweet vixen turned toward him again and took his paw, leading him out of the simulation area into the white hallway outside. The long corridor was completely empty except for the two of them. Still holding Fox's red paw, she stepped in front of him and looked into his eyes. His features softened, and his rigid muscles relaxed. Without a word, both of them leaned forward and fell into each other's embrace almost naturally. There was no room for words. Emotions alone were more than enough to express their gratitude for each other.

* * *

The Ichtosian Assault Force traveled through space quickly, with the largest battlecruisers and battleships leading the smaller frigates and cruisers to their eventual destination—Katina. Orbital defenses around the planet were confirmed to have been established by the Cornerian Army, but the Ichtosian Supreme Commander believed that the large invasion force would be more than capable of breaking through and launching an attack on the planet's surface.

General Volkchelovek stood up from her circular red chair and strolled to the front of the battleship _Aurora_, trying to seem relaxed. In reality, every nerve in her body was twitching; and she was highly irritable.

"What's our status, Captain?" she asked the collie who was piloting the large warship.

"We just left the Faulian System, and we're in the Iridium Cluster right now. If you want a guess at when we'll arrive, I'd say it's going to be about two more hours," the captain replied.

"Thank you, sir. Hold on—did you say that we're in the Iridium Cluster?" The coywolf general's ears quickly perked up at the mention of the infamous celestial region.

"Yes, ma'am. We're on the outer edge, but we're still in it right now. I assume you've heard all the stories?"

"Yes, Captain," Volkchelovek nervously answered, "This is where ships disappear for no reason, never to be seen again—almost like they never existed."

"So you know, then? Don't worry, General—nothing's going to happen to us on my watch."

"I'm glad you're so confident, Captain," she harshly replied, "…But that's what everyone else said before they disappeared."

Concerned about their current location, Irena walked back to the reference computer behind the piloting and targeting area in the bridge.

"Seach 'Iridium Cluster'," she spoke into the computer. The machine quickly scanned the large Ichtosian database for any information on the cluster and delivered it to the screen. Irena eagerly read the details of the enigmatic and mysterious location with fear in her eyes.

"Iridium Cluster: A large cluster of at least two solar systems between the Lylat and Faulian Systems. Very little is known about the Cluster due to strange electromagnetic fluctuations that wreak havoc on ships' electronics and often cause vessels to be lost without power. The few who escape from the Cluster normally only traverse its outer edge, where the electromagnetic pulses are much weaker. Scouting ships that survived entrance to the Cluster have provided evidence that life in the area is extinct or in recession. Thermal scans of the area seem to indicate that there were three solar systems in the Cluster at one point; but very recently, one of them ceased to exist."

A thumbnail picture appeared on the top right of the screen, and Irena eagerly pressed on the screen with her finger. The picture expanded and filled the entire screen. The photograph had been taken by a transport ship that had bravely traveled to the middle of the Cluster in hopes of finding something of interest. The coywolf pored over the information related to the spacecraft, and to her shock, it was listed as SCT-01—the Commander's personal transport ship. The text at the bottom left of the image simply read, "Planet Iridium." Her eyes wandered over the picture of the bright silver planet, which seemed to possess an eerie, yet calming quality. She wasn't exactly sure what her leader was doing by traveling that far into the infamous Iridium Cluster, but the thought eventually came to her that their new weapons contractor may have made his home on the planet. Only the Supreme Commander had seen him, and he insisted that he always travel alone when the time came for him to check on his contractor's progress.

"Leaving the Iridium Cluster and entering the Lylat System," the captain announced.

Irena breathed a sigh of relief knowing that the immediate danger had passed. Now was not the time for fear. It was time to prepare for the upcoming invasion of Katina. She was going to be doing what she always did during planetary assaults; and that was to lie down on a hill just outside the combat zone with her sniper rifle pointed towards the action. It was a perfect blend of safety and danger that suited the markswoman well. As it was now, she was improperly attired for the mission with her black officer's uniform. Knowing this, she walked to the ship's locker room, entered the side designated for women, and changed into a dusty green camouflage uniform with a matching armored vest that covered her torso and gave her at least passable protection from enemy gunfire. When she returned to the bridge, she overheard the captain and the navigator nervously arguing about something.

"What's the matter here?" she aggressively demanded.

"General, something's wrong," the captain replied, "Our long-range sensors are indicating an unrecognized planet directly on our course to Katina. We're going to have to slow down and redirect our path to avoid it."

"So, what's the problem, then? Do it!" the coywolf ordered.

"Well, you see—that's not the problem. The problem is that this planet isn't supposed to be here."

"What do you mean? Planets don't just leave their orbits, Captain. I'm sure there's a scientific explanation to be had somewhere."

"Don't be too sure, General," said the navigator, a large wolfhound. "The star chart for the Lylat System clearly shows that Venom is the farthest planet from the sun. This is not Venom. We don't know what this place is, but its mass readings point to it being a planet-like object."

Irena uneasily replied, "I've got a sick feeling about this, you two. Slow the fleet and alter the course. Don't even get close to that planet."

"Yes, General," the Captain replied before speaking into the fleet-wide transmission channel, "This is the _Aurora _to all ships—prepare to stop. We have encountered an unidentified obstruction and need to change our course to navigate around it."

"Copy that, _Aurora_."

"Affirmative. Reducing thrust."

The Ichtosian fleet gradually decelerated until every ship came to a complete stop. The unidentified planet on the edge of the Lylat System loomed in the distance. It was barely visible, but it appeared to give off a faint blue light from afar.

"That's it," the captain spoke, almost quaking in his boots at the unexpected discovery.

General Volkchelovek couldn't believe what she was seeing. "W…what? How is this even possible? Wouldn't General Blackworth have run into this planet on his way to Fichina when he led the attack?"

"That's a negative, General. He took a different path. From what the _Talisman_'s records show, he took a route directly through the middle of the Iridium Cluster."

"_Gutsy as always, Blackworth,"_ Irena thought to herself.

The captain slowly turned the ship away from the mysterious planet and spoke into his intercom, "All ships, rotate 15 degrees to port and activate your level 2 hyperdrive units for exactly 35 seconds. After the set amount of time has expired, stop again and redirect yourselves towards Katina."

Irena looked out the right side of the main front canopy towards the unidentified planet before she caught a glimpse of something large moving towards them. The dark silhouette was difficult to see, but it had the shape of an enormous monolithic warship. The coywolf seemed to be the only one to see it. Everyone else was focused on the upcoming hyperdrive jump and was completely oblivious to the huge craft bearing down on them.

"We're getting some kind of electromagnetic interference," said the navigator anxiously.

"Ignore it, Corporal," the captain replied, "Fasten your seat belts. Jump in 3…2…1…"

The fleet simultaneously made the hyperdrive jump and pulled out after the prescribed amount of time before stopping again to take stock of their situation. Something was wrong, though. One of the ships had failed to make the jump.

The _Aurora_'s captain noticed this and quickly asked through the intercom, "_Amethyst_, do you copy? We cannot confirm you on radar." There was no response from the battlecruiser. Static crackled through the intercom, and the captain turned to General Volkchelovek with terror in his eyes. "General, we lost the _Amethyst_. That's going to cost us."

"What?"

"It's just… gone, General. If they had made the jump late, they would have arrived at our position by now. I'm worried that something might have happened to them."

"You don't say, Captain!" Irena furiously replied, throwing her paws into the air in exasperation.

"What do you want to do? Should we pull back and try the attack later?"

The coywolf became even more cross. "Why would you suggest that? Are you stupid? No! We've come too far already. Nothing's going to stop us now!"

"Sorry, ma'am," the captain meekly replied. "All ships, set your coordinates for Katina again and prepare for another jump."

* * *

_AUTHOR'S__ NOTE:_

_For those of you who try to imagine the characters' voices while reading their dialogue, it would help for you to know that Irena speaks with a moderately heavy Russian accent. Also, if you enter her last name (Volk chelovek, in two words) into Google Translate with the Russian-to-English option selected and then click on the 'did you mean?' box that should come up, you'll (hopefully) find the admittedly none-too-creative term that it translates to._


	5. Chapter 5: Shadows of the Past

**Chapter 5: Shadows of the Past**

Date and Time: March 24, 10 ALW, 10:58 P.M.

Fox sat down on his bed and filed through the old journal he had kept during the Saurian campaign. At the moment, Krystal was using the shower in the bathroom; and she had left the door cracked open just slightly. The fragrance of her shampoo and the sound of the water cascading off her body was highly distracting, but he managed to redirect his thoughts back to the brown, leather-bound journal he held in his paws. He read through several entries in the book and reflected back on his previous adventures.

_"September 25, 8 ALW:_

_Spent most of today in the DarkIce mines. What a nightmare. The temperature outside couldn't have been more than 30, and to make matters worse, a blizzard came in just before I could get to the mine entrance. I definitely underdressed for this job. Luckily, the temperature in the mine was a bit more friendly. Things got messed up very quickly once I got inside. Tricky got captured, and I had to find a way to rescue him. He's a nuisance sometimes, but I'm not sure I could get through this without his help. Anyway, after freeing the gatekeeper's daughter—Belinda Te, I believe that's what her name was—I had to face the Galdon in order to collect the first SpellStone. That stupid rock was in its throat. I smelled like vomit for the rest of the day after that fight because the Galdon literally ate me alive. I really hope there's not more where this thing came from in my future."_

_"September 26, 8 ALW"_

_"This was a crazy day, and I know I'll never forget about it. After I returned the first SpellStone to the Volcano Force Point Temple, I walked back out into Moon Mountain Pass. All of sudden, this huge thing called a 'Krazoa' appeared, and I heard a girl's voice screaming for help. She said, "I need Krazoa Spirits, or I won't survive." I didn't understand it; and I didn't really care, either. I didn't come here to rescue a damsel in distress—I came to find some way to put this planet back together, and this wasn't part of it. That Krazoa insisted that I enter one of their shrines and complete a 'test;' so I decided to do it just because I didn't want him to keep dogging me. It was called the 'Test of Combat', and it was pretty easy. All I had to do was beat up some Sharpclaws with that weird staff I found in the hollow when I landed on Dinosaur Planet for the first time. That's when the Krazoa Spirit I was supposed to collect jumped into my body. I was possessed. It scared the living crap out of me, to say the least; but I didn't feel much different than I did before. It took me a while to get back to the hollow, but when I did, the WarpStone let me travel to the Krazoa Palace for the first time. That's the place where the Krazoa told me to release the spirit. The palace was creepy. There's no better word to describe it than that. In the palace's main rotunda area, I found a mask-like thing that looked a bit like the spirit I collected, so I released it there and decided to check out the rest of the palace. I found this weird little air lift that took me to the palace's roof, and that's when I laid eyes on the most beautiful girl I think I've ever seen. She was asleep in some kind of crystal prison. "Krystal" was her name; or at least, that's what Slippy called her. She was almost naked, and I couldn't stop staring at her. All I could say was "Man, she's so beautiful." It's probably a good thing Peppy snapped me out of my trance, or I might have been up there for hours just looking at her. I don't feel the same way about this job after seeing her, and if there's some way I can save her, I'll do it. I wonder if she'll like me. Nah, probably not. All the pretty ones never do."_

Fox heard the shower in the bathroom turn off, followed by the sound of the shower curtain being pulled back. He smiled deeply knowing that Krystal loved him as much as he loved her. He never would have believed it if someone had told him on Sauria that the same girl he met in the crystal prison would become his inseparable friend and love. Now, Fox heard the obnoxious sound of Krystal's hair dryer coming from the bathroom as he sat up on the lower of the two bunks in his room. He redirected his eyes back to his journal and turned it to his final entry.

"_September 30, 8 ALW"_

_"It's really heating up now. There are only two more Krazoa Spirits to release, and soon, I'll be on my way back to the Walled City. This adventure has put me through so much more than I ever thought it would. I feel like an idiot for writing this, but I'm finally starting to take this job seriously. If I release all the Krazoa Spirits; that means that the planet will finally come back together. Then, me and my team can get paid and make those repairs on the _Great Fox_. Slippy's been begging for those repairs for ages, but we didn't have the money for them. I've got a good feeling about this, but at the same time, I'm worried about Krystal. I don't want her to die. What if she's the one for me? Maybe she's here for a reason—maybe we were destined to meet? There's no way she's from Lylat—blue foxes don't exist here. But why would she come to Sauria? There's only one way to find out, and that's to rescue her."_

_"Please, don't die on me, Krystal."_

The bathroom door quietly creaked, and Krystal stepped out into the room onto the cold, metallic floor. She had dressed herself in a simple white t-shirt with a large black Star Fox emblem on it along with a pair of pink cotton short shorts. Ankle-length pink socks adorned her feet and prevented her from feeling the uncomfortable temperatures of the steel flooring. Her outfit was light and comfortable enough to sleep in, but it was also presentable enough to walk around the ship in without drawing any unnecessary attention to herself. The blue vixen noticed the now-closed leather notebook on Fox's lap and curiously asked, "What's that, Fox?"

"Oh, um… It's my journal that I kept when I was on Sauria the first time," Fox nervously answered. "I kept it in my bag and pulled it out from time to time to take notes. Sometimes I did it just to pass the time when things got boring."

"Do you mind if I read it?" Krystal asked sweetly.

Of course Fox couldn't say no. However, he wasn't fully comfortable with his blue friend looking through his old memories. That was a different Fox. That Fox was selfish and headstrong, unlike the Fox of today. He had changed so much since Sauria, and part of him believed that Krystal was responsible for this. She let herself go and did childish things from time to time, but for the most part, the 20-year old Cerinian behaved like someone almost ten years her senior.

"_Her parents must have been great,_" thought Fox, not remembering to think that Krystal would be reading his thoughts. Upon sensing Fox's thought patterns, Krystal's ears drooped and she hung her shoulders as the memory of her beloved parents returned. None of what was happening now would have been possible without them, but she missed them dearly—just as much as Fox missed his mother and father. "I'm sorry, Krystal. I didn't mean to do that to you."

"It's alright, Fox," she whimpered, brushing away a tear from her eye. "I have to learn to get over it. There's nothing I can do to bring them back." The Cerinian carefully removed the journal from Fox's lap and opened it, with the red vulpine making no attempt to stop her. She read through the concise Saurian journal starting at the beginning and finishing where Fox left off. He had stopped writing on his last day on Sauria. After completing the Test of Knowledge and returning the fifth Krazoa Spirit to the palace, he remained on the floating structure, where he encountered General Scales. A familiar voice unexpectedly ordered the general to surrender the spirit he kept within himself, much to Fox's surprise. After he had left the last of the Krazoa Shrines, he released the final spirit into the mask on the palace roof, just twenty feet below Krystal. The reaction caused the crystal prison to break and Krystal to awaken. She would have certainly died by falling through the circular hole below where the crystal floated if Fox had not caught her with his staff and rescued her. She hardly even remembered what she did after that, but Fox clearly recalled her taking her staff back from him and trying to take down Andross with its fire blaster as he flew away. So stubborn—just like him.

Krystal flipped through the pages, somewhat surprised at how immature Fox was at the time. She was amazed that he would dare to put into writing a statement declaring that he didn't care that she was going to die at the hands of Andross. This was so far removed from the Fox she had fallen in love with. Her sour mood brightened slightly upon reading the final transcript of the diary where Fox had changed his mind about her and was now concerned for her well-being. "You've come a long way, Fox," she said, "You're twice the man you were back then, if that's how you really acted."

Fox shook his head and replied, "I know. I was an idiot for being that way. I was blind to who I really was." He paused and exhaled before continuing, "I want to thank you for helping me become a better leader. I don't know where I'd be right now without you. I probably would have been blown to pieces by the Aparoids if you hadn't been there to show me how immature I was."

"Think nothing of it, Fox," she replied, flipping the journal to its final page for no apparent reason. Only about a quarter of the journal's pages were actually filled. On the last page, however; there was a series of cryptic messages that Fox had written down. He had obtained these various pieces of knowledge from a number of fortune-telling wells scattered around Sauria during his travels. Krystal's eyes focused in on one particular message that read, "_You are meant to be together. It was your destiny. Together as one, you will bring peace." _Her sea-green eyes widened. The pieces were starting to fit together even more closely. A force much stronger than chance had brought them together for the purpose of bringing peace to Lylat. The prophecy she had read to Fox earlier suddenly flashed into her mind. It had been foretold that she would survive the destruction of her paradisiacal homeworld, but that "last of the Threefold" phrase still mystified her. No other clues to the mystery existed. Only time would give away the answer. The foreign text was still unsolved. Krystal closed the journal and took a deep breath, placing the leather-bound book next to Fox and climbing the short ladder to her bunk.

Her sweet, innocent voice filled the room as Fox pulled the sheets over himself and rested his head on his pillow, "Good night, Fox."

"Good night, Krystal," he softly replied.

* * *

Both foxes drifted off into sleep, with Krystal feeding off of Fox's positive energy as he rested. Eventually, a deep sleep cycle overtook her. Normally, this was when Krystal's dreams became a reality to her. The darkness around her gradually faded into light, and she found herself sitting on a rock in the middle of a pure Cerinian spring, wearing her tribal clothes minus the armor. A medium-sized waterfall filled the small pool, which emitted a fresh, pure scent vaguely reminiscent of the smell of honey. Without hesitation, she pulled off her sandals and plunged into the water. She swam over to the cascading waterfall and placed herself directly under the deluge, allowing the warm water to crash off her shoulders. She felt that she was alone, even though telepathic thought patterns were normally everywhere on Cerinia. It seemed strange that there was no one else around, but for the moment, she didn't care. After standing under the falls for a few minutes, she swam to the bank of the pond and sat down with her feet still in the water. The temperature was just as hot as she remembered it being.

She suddenly felt a paw on her shoulder, and she turned her head to see her father, with her mother standing behind him. Both of them wore long robes that covered their scant tribal clothing, and they looked exactly like how she remembered them. Without a word, her father handed her a white towel for her to dry herself with, and the young Cerinian eagerly accepted it.

Finally, the male Cerinian spoke in their native language, "We're proud of you, Krystal. Our love for you cannot be contained by mortality."

Krystal cried tears of mixed joy and sorrow because even though her parents were here in this dream, they were still dead in the real world. "But… you're dead," she sadly spoke.

"The dreams of a Cerinian are beautiful things, daughter," Krystal's mother replied, "There are no limits to what the subconscious mind can achieve in a heightened dream state. Breathe—let it in. Until you wake up, this is your reality. We're here for you now."

Krystal smiled a soft, gentle smile and gave both her mother and father a hug. She didn't want this dream to end, but it was inevitable. Before too long, she would awaken and return to her bunk onboard the _Cardinal_.

"Come with us," her father said, motioning for her to follow them. The two older Cerinians led Krystal into the nearby city, where they used to live. She saw the house she was born in still standing on the corner of a neatly-paved white street. The city was completely silent. No activity of any kind was present in the metropolis, which was completely free of pollution and was a miracle of Cerinian technology. The city's largest buildings towered over them, with their polished metallic walls gleaming in the sunlight. The ancient structures had been there for many years and had the appearance of buildings that were built several millennia ago, while maintaining the construction qualities of the current day. Krystal missed this place so much. She wished it was still around so she could show Fox. He would love it here.

"Can I bring Fox into this dream?" she asked her father.

"I'm sorry, my daughter, but no. His soul is not capable of joining us," he solemnly replied. Krystal lowered her head and sadly narrowed her eyes. Fox would be missing out on so much.

Krystal's parents led her to a large Parthenon which she easily recognized as the Temple of Cerinia. They walked between the massive stone columns that held the building's roof up and then through the main congregation area, which contained more than fifty rows of marble pews. Behind the elevated platform where the priests and priestesses spoke to the people of Cerinia was the sacred area where only the High Priest was allowed to enter. A narrow stone door marked the entry to the most holy place. On the elegant, gold-lined door was an engraving of a triangle with a large circle within its boundaries. Each point of the triangle had a corresponding shape attached to it. The peak had a square, the right point had a circle, and the left point had a smaller triangle affixed to it. Krystal had never seen this inscription before in her life, even though it had always been there.

"Go," her father spoke.

"But… I can't! I'll die!"

"Not anymore. You have been chosen. This is your destiny. Open the door and walk through, my daughter."

Krystal nervously sidestepped up to the door while looking at her parents out of the corner of her eye. Her paw quivered as she placed it on the lever which opened the door that only the ordained were allowed to access. She looked back at her mother and father one last time as the male Cerinian nodded, indicating for her to open the door. The vixen obeyed and closed her eyes before pressing down on the door lever and pushing it in. The heavy door made no noise at all as it opened. Krystal stepped through the door frame and looked back to where her parents stood, but they were no longer there. She was alone once again. The sanctum door closed by itself, and Krystal found herself in a dark, circular room with a high, domed ceiling. A form of an altar stood on a raised circular platform with two steps leading up to it. The rectangular stone artifact was highly iridescent and looked nothing at all like anything from Cerinia. On its face was the same triangular symbol that had been carved into the door she had just come through. She looked around the room for any signs of life, but saw nothing. However, her telepathic mind sensed a tremendous buildup of thought energy somewhere in the room.

She fearfully spoke into the empty room, "Hello? Is anybody there? What do you want from me?"

An empty frame on the wall behind the altar suddenly filled with a blue substance that created a personal warp point, causing Krystal to momentarily let out a quick gasp of air. Her limbs shook as she approached the teleportation device that seemed to beckon her to come closer. The thought energy in the room kept growing stronger, and it was almost becoming unbearable to her young mind. Forcing herself to go along with the unseen will that was directing her, she stepped through the portal.

For several seconds, the world faded in and out before she opened her eyes and found herself in complete darkness. She found that she was able to move around, but there was no light to guide her way. A faint white light slowly began to fill the room, which was shaped like a triangle and contained a circular device that was positioned in the middle of the floor. Each wall in the triangular room had its own door, and Krystal could begin to identify the colors and materials of the large space. The room was of a reflective gray color, and blood-red electrical conduits ran down the walls, giving the illusion that they had a pulse. She nervously said, "Hello? Anybody?" but all she was greeted with was a tremendous echo resulting from her own words. Steam slowly began to fill the room, gradually obscuring her vision until very little could be seen. Krystal tried to bat away the mist with her paw, but it was of no use. She could barely even see her own chest through the intense fog. She suddenly felt two heavy, powerful paws on her shoulders. This was undoubtedly the source of the potent thought energy she had felt earlier. His aura filled the room and shook Krystal's being to the core. All was quiet except for her panicked breathing and her elevated heartbeat.

The invisible presence shattered the silence of the room with a powerful voice that somehow managed to be gentle and loving at the same time. "Daughter of Cerinia, do you know who you are?"

Krystal was filled with awestruck fear. She felt like her mind and soul were completely exposed to this stranger she couldn't even see. The specter's grip on her shoulders tightened, and she noticed that one of his hands was completely lacking skin or fur. Instinctively, she screamed loudly, trying to force the apparition to loosen his grip on her.

The stranger spoke, "Don't be afraid. You have nothing to fear except that which is inside you." Krystal felt his living hand brush across her forehead and lightly sift through her hair.

"Relax. Let go of your fears."

The fog slowly began to fade, and for the first time, Krystal could see her host. The apparition had a vulpine figure and stood exactly six feet tall. He was clad in a hooded gray robe with long sleeves, and he wore a pair of simple gray sandals on his feet. His fur was unkempt and appeared to not have been brushed in a very long time. The figure's full-length robe was very nondescript, and in some places on the cloak, significant holes and tears were visible. However, the two things that immediately attracted Krystal's attention were his lifeless left hand and his metallic silver eyes, which contained not one trace of color—in fact; his entire being was of a monochrome complexion. The longer she looked into the iridescent orbs, the stronger she felt. The sensation was satiating and invigorating all at once and brought to mind Krystal's memories of her home planet's curative environment.

With the fog now completely gone, the stranger spoke again and repeated his question, "Do you know who you are?"

This time, Krystal was unafraid. "Krystal of Cerinia," she replied.

"Correct, but you've only scratched the surface, daughter," her host warmly spoke. "There's more to you than you know. You were created with a unique purpose that no one else can accomplish, and the time has almost come for you to become what you were always destined to be."

"What do you mean?" she asked inquisitively.

"More than a thousand years ago, a prophecy was given specifically to the Cerinian people, for it was determined that a great hero would arise out of their midst and put an end to the greatest evil known to this galaxy. You have been chosen, my daughter. Not only are you the last of the Cerinians, but you are the last living Iridian as well."

"Iridian? W…what's that?"

"The Iridians were a threefold race that once lived in an area far outside the boundaries of the Lylat System. They were a special creation set apart from all other life by their mental capacities and their unique beauty which will never be matched by any other race."

The gray vulpine led Krystal up to the circular interface in the center of the room. It appeared to be a computer system, and on its screen was a digitalized rendition of the triangular emblem she had seen twice in the last five minutes.

"The three races are symbolized by the shapes at the end of each of the triangle's points. The circle represents Iridium, the small triangle represents Revnus, and the square represents Cerinia. The Revnites and the native Iridians were bestowed with the early gift of scientific knowledge, while the Cerinians were given the ability to more fully understand the mind and the soul. For many years, the three races lived in peace; but somewhere along the way, something went terribly wrong. Out of the three races, the Revnites were always the most perceptive to information; and over time, they came to believe that the entire universe was theirs to possess. They forsook their original purpose and made it their goal to digitize all sentient life because imperfections were intolerable to them. A bloody war broke out between the Revnites and the native Iridians, with the two forces eventually drawing up a ceasefire agreement after I offered to surrender myself for the sake of peace. Sadly, in my absence after my sacrifice, the Iridians followed in the footsteps of the Revnite people and defiled themselves with their own machinery. They extincted themselves by becoming what they themselves had created. After my Originator allowed me to return to High Iridium many years later to resume my duty as Head Administrator of the Iridium Database, I found no life on the planet. They were all gone, as if they had never existed. This was never meant to be, and it saddens me greatly."

Silence filled the room once again before Krystal posed a question for her host. "I don't want to offend you, sir, but what do I have to do with this?" she weakly asked, taking a step away from the hooded gray vulpine and nervously crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Don't apologize for an innocent question, daughter," he firmly replied. "The work of the Revnites is like a virus that pervades the galaxy and shrouds it in darkness. If nothing is done about it, all life will soon become like them—completely soulless and empty."

"But what am I supposed to do about it?" the vixen desperately asked, opening her paws with her palms facing out.

"_Come to Iridium, and all will be revealed_."

A bright white light suddenly filled the room, blinding the Cerinian and causing her to awaken from her dream. She quickly sat up in bed back on the _Cardinal_ with a loud gasp that caused Fox to wake up as well.

The red vulpine groaned in bed, asking his frightened roommate, "What's wrong, Krystal?"

"Have you ever heard of a planet called Iridium?" she breathlessly asked.

"I can't say I have. Why? Did you have a dream about it?"

The vixen took a deep breath to regain her composure. "Yes, Fox. I met someone in my dream, and that's where he told me to go. He said, 'Come to Iridium, and all will be revealed.' Somehow, I have to find it. I think it's close to where Cerinia was."

"I'll help you find it if it's that important to you," Fox assured her as he shuffled around under his sheets and closed his eyes again.

"Thank you, Fox. Sorry I woke you up."

"No apology needed, Krystal. You know I love hearing your voice," he tiredly mumbled with a soft smile on his lips.

Once again, Fox and Krystal returned to their sleep, completely unaware that their services were about to be needed once again.


	6. Chapter 6: The Battle of Katina

**Chapter 6: The Battle of Katina**

Date and Time: March 25, 10 ALW, 1:18 A.M.

The loud, authoritative voice of the _Cardinal'_s leading officer roared through the speakers built into each of the battleship's walls, waking everyone on board. "Attention, crew! We have confirmed contact with Ichtosian forces in orbit around Katina! ETA of arrival is estimated at around 20 minutes. Assemble in the hangar ASAP for your briefing."

Fox felt the immense warship quickly increase speed as it headed for Katina at its greatest possible velocity. Shaking off his tiredness, Fox pulled the sheets off of himself and clumsily slid out of bed as Krystal climbed down the ladder from her bunk. Fox's extra changes of clothing were still in his suitcase, which he quickly unzipped before selecting the black and red flight suit he had worn during the war with the Aparoids. Krystal pulled her blue bodysuit out of the room's dresser and ran into the bathroom to change, closing the door to give both of them their privacy while they dressed themselves in their flight gear. A minute later, Krystal emerged from the bathroom just as Fox finished zipping up his form-fitting jacket. The two foxes sprinted out of their room toward the hangar, eventually catching up with Falco, who was also on his way to his Arwing.

"What took ya, Fox?" Falco taunted as he continued to run as quickly as was comfortable for him. "Did that warning interrupt your little love making session?"

Krystal tried to suppress a giggle elicited by Falco's snide remark, but Fox was not in the mood for jokes. "No, Falco! We're not there yet…"

_Oh no—not this again._

"Yet?! No! That's not what I meant to say! I meant… oh, forget it! Shut your beak, Falco!"

Krystal laughed as she ran behind Fox. He was completely smitten with her, but he held himself back admirably for someone in his position, especially since he shared a bed with Krystal when they weren't on duty. She was sure that in time, he would be more comfortable with becoming more intimate with her; but he wasn't quite there yet. While Fox fumed in embarrassment, the three pilots raced down the ship's staircase to the hangar with Falco in the lead. He shoved open the steel door that led to the brightly illuminated hangar, which sharply contrasted with the rest of the gunmetal-colored ship.

The avian shielded his eyes from the blinding light with his wing as Fox and Krystal ran over to their Arwings and performed the external safety checks to make sure they were fully operational. These ships had barely even been around for a year, yet they were already heavily scratched and scored from the abuse they had sustained from the Aparoids. Falco's was in especially bad shape, but this was due to an unfortunate scuffle he had gotten into with an unhappy bounty hunter, rather than from the Aparoid conflict. The Cornerian Army was forced to rebuild itself from the ground up after the recent clash with the insectoid beings, and as a result, the Mark II Arwings that Star Fox used were already behind the curve of Cornerian military technology. The Arwing _Type_ 2 was rumored to be in development, but it was sure to be very expensive. Regardless of any cost, Fox was determined to acquire one by any means necessary.

With the external checks complete on their Arwings, Fox and Krystal turned their attention to the same door they had just run through. The husky solider they had encountered in the firing range stepped through the door, wearing a full suit of black composite battle armor. The outfit's numerous plates intersected and linked with each other in the most critical areas and protected every inch of the trooper's body from any small arms fire that could possibly be encountered in the line of duty. He held in his right paw a helmet custom-tailored for his canine skull; and a long, dark katana jutted out from his back. A heavy-duty M27 plasma rifle was slung over his right shoulder and crossed over the sword behind him. While descending the wiry steps to the hangar floor, he donned his helmet, which featured a slim silver visor that reflected light like a mirror. His eyes could not be seen at all, and the soldier looked quite intimidating to the traditionally-attired Cornerian pilots.

The dog walked past Fox and nodded his head to acknowledge his fellow soldier. In his close proximity with the trooper, Fox could clearly see a white symbol on his suit's exaggerated shoulder plates, which exemplified his muscular frame and made him appear even brawnier than he actually was. The symbol, which was not part of the Lylat language, appeared to be an inverted letter 'V;' and below it, the word 'Lambda' was written in a squared font. All eyes in the hangar were upon the soldier, as armored combat suits had not yet been given the green light for mass production and were considered a sound conceptual idea at best. He walked slowly across the vast hangar floor, stepping across the launch rails before seating himself on the flight deck of a silver Cornerian dropship.

Fox continued to look at him as the soldier pulled out what appeared to be a picture. One perk to wearing a full-face helmet was that no one could comprehend the emotions of the wearer. Perhaps that was the reason he chose to wear the metallic mask long before he was scheduled to engage in combat. While Fox looked on, contemplating the set of circumstances dictating his current situation, Krystal walked to Fox's side and nuzzled into him; wrapping her arm around his shoulder and drawing his muzzle close for a quick kiss. The intuitive Cerinian could tell exactly what Fox was thinking about. He was wondering what the soldier was looking at. While the husky could hide his expression from everyone else, there was no escape from the vixen's sixth sense. Within seconds, she determined what it was that was on his mind, and what she found saddened her.

"I feel sorry for that man," she said to Fox in a near-whisper. "He's lost everything that ever mattered to him. The only thing left of him is the will to fight." Fox had to admit that it took courage on the soldier's part to hold onto his resolve in spite of everything he loved being taken from him. He was no different than Fox in that respect, except for one thing—Krystal. If she was lost or killed, he could never forgive himself. That would be the last straw for the mercenary. Over the years, the disturbing pattern of tremendous loss manifested itself in Fox's life—first with the unfortunate death of his mother, then the death of his father, and finally with the loss of the ship his father had entrusted him with. Losing the only woman he had ever felt a strong emotional connection with would shatter him, and he would no longer be able to face himself.

He looked back up the dog seated in the dropship, still staring at the picture. "_So that's what it looks like to lose everything." _At that moment, he became filled with fear for Krystal. Somehow, he had to make sure she would escape harm, even if it meant they could no longer be together. She was strong, but was it enough? The cold hand of fate seemed to be against Fox, and every skirmish increased the chances of the Cerinian losing her life and leaving him with empty hands and a broken heart.

The Lieutenant Colonel in charge of the _Cardinal_'s marines loudly ordered all of the soldiers to assemble around him in the open area between the fighters and the transport ships. Fox, Krystal, and Falco stood directly in front of the coyote officer, with Slippy a few feet behind them. The frog had taken longer than the other three pilots to reach the hangar and had just finished his pre-flight checks when the order to assemble came.

"Listen up, ladies and gentlemen," the officer spoke, "We have five minutes until the engagement with the Ichtosian forces will commence. The fifth defense fleet is taking a beating out there, and the enemy is confirmed to have already breached the planet's atmosphere. The _Cardinal _and the rest of the seventh fleet will handle the action in space. Your job is to make sure that Katina remains under our control. The main military outpost will be the primary target of this attack. By maintaining control of that location, our forces will stand a much better chance of victory. After securing the command outpost, our defense forces on Katina will be able to bring the fight to the other outposts. Do not under any circumstances underestimate the Ichtosian military. Doing so will be the death of you. If there are no questions, you may begin loading into your ships."

The assembly broke up, and the Cornerian marines climbed aboard their respective ships; some to their fighters, and some to the transports on the other side of the hangar. The minutes ticked by at an agonizingly slow rate. Fox couldn't wait to get his feet wet again, so to speak. It had been far too long since he had been part of an assault of this scale. As he had done in the past, he put aside all of his distracting thoughts and focused solely on the mission at hand. He was born for moments like these. Giving Krystal a quick pat on the shoulder, he jogged over to his Arwing and opened the cockpit before carefully climbing up the fighter's angled wings just like he had hundreds of times before. The mercenary lowered himself into the pilot's seat tail-first and swung his legs into their designated spaces above the two pedals which controlled the ship's roll function. The canopy slowly closed over him, sealing him inside the quiet cockpit. His fingers danced over the main dash readout as he primed the engines for launch and activated the ship's sometimes-problematic G-diffuser system.

"Communications line, green,_" _Fox spoke into his headset, acknowledging the working state of his comms system.

"Copy that, Fox," replied Falco in a voice that seemed more tense than was normal for him. The enemy they would be facing would be no ordinary foe. Every pilot in the hangar was full of adrenaline in expectation of the coming conflict, and the air of the hangar was silent as the _Cardinal _neared Katina. The planet slowly came into view along with the enemy battalion that the struggling fifth fleet was struggling to cope with; and for the first time, the pilots could clearly see their new enemies. The numerous black and red Ichtosian warships loomed in the distance, temporarily illuminated by the brilliant cannon fire being discharged from their main guns. There were roughly forty ships in all; mostly cruisers and frigates, with a smattering of destroyers and battlecruisers thrown into the mix. Noticeably absent from the Ichtosian fleet was the presence of a heavy dreadnaught or attack carrier.

The words "Clear to engage" loudly resonated throughout the hangar as a flashing green light appeared on Fox's dashboard. The voice of the ship's hangar controller came over Fox's headset, "Fox McCloud, you are clear for launch. Please confirm." Star Fox's leader confirmed the launch by pressing the green button on the screen, and he immediately felt his ship moving along the launch rail on the way out of the hangar. The launch system guided the Arwing down the rail, which slowly turned 45 degrees to the right and prepared for the final part of the launch. A message that read "Initiating launch cycle" appeared on Fox's interface, followed by a sudden increase in speed. The rail accelerated to the Arwing's cruising speed and shot it out of the hangar almost effortlessly through the lowered plasma door. Fox felt his ship unlock from the launch rail, and he looked to his right to see Falco and Slippy's Arwings closely behind him in the void of space, with Krystal's to his left. The dashboard screen read "_Launch successful."_

Fox McCloud quickly addressed his team in preparation for the mission, telling them, "Here we go again, team. Same thing as before— just a different time, a different place, and a different enemy. Free engagement is authorized. Hit anything and everything that comes up as hostile on your IFF. Star Fox, engage!"

The four Arwings maintained a close formation, leading the way into the space-borne conflict. Large pieces of both Cornerian and Ichtosian ships floated in orbit around the Cornerian frontier planet, and it was evident that the main fight had moved down to the planet's surface. Very few fighters were still in the space combat area, which was mainly occupied by the larger maritime vessels. The sound of the _Cardinal_'s heavy cannons could not be heard through space as they roared into life, but the powerful yellow blazes of light were easily seen and felt, even through the cockpits of the Arwings. An Ichtosian cruiser was quickly and violently ripped in half by the attack from the Cornerian flagship as the warship and the rest of its fleet advanced into the heat of battle. The transports began heading for the planet's surface, completely unimpeded by the enemy ships, followed by Star Fox and the other Cornerian fighters which had just exited the _Cardinal_'s hangar.

"This is awful," Falco sourly remarked. "I hate to see the Cornerian fleet like this. Then again, this isn't exactly the first time this has happened, is it?"

"I know, Falco. That's why we're here," Fox replied.

It was disappointing that even though the Cornerian Defense Fleet had been ripped to pieces multiple times in the past, nothing ever seemed to change. Every new enemy seemed to bring something new to the table that rendered the mighty armada helpless. Graves's ONYX-based strategy for empowering the army was plausible, but in effect, it would be akin to using Star Fox to bail them out whenever things became particularly messy.

Fox lead the way to the planet's surface. He watched as his Arwing's nose began to heat up and reflect the intense heat of Katina's mesosphere upon entry, with the flames reflecting harmlessly across the fighter's bow. Shortly thereafter, he broke through Katina's cloud cover and set a course for the command outpost, which his ship's HUD indicated was twenty miles from his location. This outpost was the site of his first physical contact with the Aparoids just a year ago, and also the location where Pigma Dengar was reintroduced to him after falling off the radar along with his former teammates in Star Wolf. That little misadventure had cost him precious time that he couldn't afford in the face of the oppressive Aparoid invasion. Now, the frontier base was back to its normal operating state. Military personnel were re-stationed there, although not in great numbers. Just days ago, extra Cornerian troops had been preemptively moved to the planet to assist in its defense; but from all accounts, they were still being beaten by the invading forces.

"_7 miles and closing_."

The base's tall spire quickly came into view, and with it, the teeming hordes of enemy IA-42 fighters. Fox's heart sank at the sight of the advanced black Wolfen-esque spacecrafts he would be facing. There were simply too many to deal with. The odds never mattered to him, but this was a long shot by even his standards. The IFF readout indicated forty enemy airborne targets, which included an assortment of heavily armored IA-45 assault fighters capable of unleashing multiple barrages of missiles upon him and his crew; along with several light interceptors that had the potential to be very dangerous in air-to-air engagements. As if that wasn't enough, he began to notice severe radar and tracker interference that was undoubtedly created by a jammer aircraft's counter-ECM system.

He and the Cornerians were not only outnumbered, but also outgunned. This was new to Fox. His team's Arwings had always been superior to everything else in the sky, but now, that advantage was gone. In spite of all this, there was no way he was going to give up. He would have to trust his instincts and give it everything he had to make a miracle happen.

The same thought went through both Fox and Falco's minds: "_Slippy."_ Normally, his barely adequate pilot skills were at least passable for most sorties, but this one would require a pilot with a greater set of skills than the amphibian possessed.

"Uh, Slippy, you might not want to let your guard down," Falco uneasily suggested. Unfortunately, it was already too late. Four Ichtosian fighters were all over his Arwing, and every maneuver he attempted was easily matched by the advanced black ships.

Slippy's familiar cry for help came through the team's communications line. "Fox! Help me! I can't shake these guys!"

This was getting old already. As if Fox didn't have enough to worry about already, Slippy was getting himself into trouble as he usually did. The vulpine was growing tired of being the amphibian's aerial chaperone that was forced to cover for his inadequate teammate's meager flight skills time after time. Fox hit the brakes and fell in behind Slippy's pursuers, managing to take down two of the black fighters in rapid succession. The remaining two ships veered off in opposite directions to regroup for another attack as the Star Fox team split up to cover every area of the combat zone with the help of the allied Cornerian fighters. The battle was evenly matched in terms of equipment and skill; meaning that the outcome would be determined by whoever was able to dig in deeper and pull out whatever was necessary to win.

Falco yelled into his intercom as a cluster of small missiles launched from an assault fighter barely missed his left wing, while Krystal desperately tried to shake an IA-42 that was doggedly following her. The reinforcements that had been airdropped into the outpost were quickly turning the tide of the ground battle, allowing the Cornerian base forces to roll out their mobile AA guns to assist the fighter squadron in their mission to eliminate all airborne resistance. Still, the Ichtosians weren't going to give up anytime soon. Slippy nearly jumped in his pilot's seat as a Cornerian M2 was virtually disintegrated right in front of him by an IA-42's front plasma machinegun.

Fox spoke to his wingmates while dropping two more enemy targets, "Keep an eye out for the assault fighters, team. They're not as quick as the others, but if they get a solid lock on you, you're done for." The ground-based AA guns were working their magic beautifully, although the Cornerian fighters were still outnumbered by a wide margin. However, the battle was slowly turning in their favor as the black fighters continued to slowly disappear from the skies over Katina.

The Lieutenant Colonel's voice came over the intercoms of all Cornerian fighters, updating them on the status of the Katina defense operation. "Good work, everyone—the operation is going better than expected. Outposts 4-9 have been secured and locked down by our forces, and Outposts 1 and 3 are almost under our control. Any available fighters, please head to Outpost 1 to assist Star Fox and the 34th fighter wing." Fox grinned behind his Arwing's controls upon hearing the news that they now had the upper hand in the planetary defense. His skills hadn't diminished one bit, and neither had the rest of his team's. Even now, he looked to his right and saw Falco singlehandedly taking down two heavy assault fighters that were completely unable to escape from his swift Arwing.

"Assault fighters are down!" Falco triumphantly announced with pride evident in his voice. The enemy forces' offensive power was lowered considerably at this point; and with additional Cornerian fighters from the other nearby outposts due to arrive at Outpost 1 at any minute, the situation for the Ichtosian pilots was becoming very grim.

* * *

One mile outside the walls of the outpost, General Volkchelovek lay prone on the ground near the roots of an enormous fungal growth that reached over a hundred feet into the air. Her spotter scanned the distant battle area with his binoculars, looking for any targets that the coywolf could gun down. She had been in the same position for nearly two hours now, and she had witnessed firsthand the unexpected turn of the tide of battle in favor of the Cornerians. Volkchelovek's orange feline spotter was anxious to move to a different location to avoid being detected by the enemy, because every second they remained in place increased the odds of them being spotted and subsequently targeted.

"General, we really should move. We've been here too long," he said in a voice drenched with concern.

The female coywolf harshly replied, "No, Polska. We're staying here until someone comes to pick us up. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The coywolf peered through the large scope mounted on top of her carbon fiber ballistic sniper rifle, monitoring the deplorable state of the ground operation. The rifle's conventional rounds weren't as effective against armor as lasers or plasma weapons, but they did possess one key advantage: they did not create a bright beam or flash of light like the energy-based weapons did. The large weapon was as long as she was tall, and the recoil created from firing the rifle's .70-caliber full metal jacket rounds was much greater than the amount that would have been deemed 'safe' for someone of her stature. A silencer that also doubled as a muzzle brake had been attached to the end of the bolt-action rifle's barrel, preventing anyone from being able to determine her location based on a flash or a sound.

The short general noticed a Cornerian-uniformed vixen reloading while taking cover behind an aircraft hangar in the base's main courtyard area. "Perfect," she murmured to herself as she took aim at the solider, taking into account the direction and velocity of the wind along with the estimated effects of the bullet drop that would take place over the distance the brass-encased round would have to travel to hit its target. The sniper's built-in HUD system on her scope's front lens indicated that two rounds were left in her current clip, which was built into the rifle and held four oversized shells. She wasn't looking forward to the unsettling jolt that would occur immediately after firing the huge rifle, but she was used to it after spending more than five years as a marksman in the Ichtosian armed forces.

Taking in a controlled breath of air, she firmly squeezed the trigger. The sniper rifle recoiled ferociously into her shoulder as the bullet left the barrel and flew towards its unsuspecting target with pinpoint accuracy. The coywolf realigned her right eye with the scope and observed the results of her work. The bullet had caught the Cornerian vixen in the right shoulder, and the Ichtosian general watched the soldier drop to the ground and scream at the top of her lungs in pain.

"That's got to hurt," she soberly commented, taking an opportunity to slide the bolt back and start loading three more cartridges into the rifle's onboard magazine.

"Nice shot, General," her spotter unemotionally said.

"Thank you, Polska. Too bad that isn't going to do much for the sorry situation we're in right now," she bitterly replied.

Volkchelovek slowly pressed the enormous cartridges down into the rifle while an aerial dogfight between Krystal and an Ichtosian pilot raged above them. The orange feline spotter lowered his binoculars and looked up into the sky as the Arwing's laser cannon ripped through the IA-42's left wing. The crippled craft banked hard to the right with the Cornerian fighter closely mirroring its movements while continuing to relentlessly open fire. Smoke billowed from the back of the Ichtosian fighter as it made a long horizontal turn through the skies of Katina. In seconds, it would fly over their position. Before that could happen, though, the craft was struck with another laser blast and erupted into flames, dropping altitude at an alarming rate and heading straight towards the General and her spotter. Irena abandoned her reloading and spun her head around to see the burning fighter about to crash-land directly on top of her. She screamed and desperately leapt forward with her heavy rifle still held in her right paw, awkwardly trying to crawl away from the immediate danger. Seconds later, the wrecked fighter slammed into the ground she had just been laying on and skidded to a halt fifty feet down the slope in front of the sniping point.

"Polska!" she yelled, trying to ascertain that her spotter had survived. No response came from the feline. Irena sprinted back to the point of impact and found the spotter dead on the ground, crushed by the falling spacecraft. There was no time for her to feel sorry for him. There was still a chance that the pilot had survived, and Irena had to make sure that no one was left behind if she could help it. She dropped her rifle on the ground near the wreckage of the IA-42 and clambered up the ship's forward-swept wing before wrenching open the cockpit using all of her strength. The large malamute pilot was unconscious and barely breathing, but he was still alive. Unfortunately, it would be very difficult for the short general to pull the 230-pound dog out of the cockpit to safety. The engines were still burning, and an explosion was a definite possibility.

"Come on! Get out!" she screamed into the pilot's ear, punching him in the shoulder in an attempt to make him regain consciousness. Her paws flew over the pilot's safety harness, unfastening the straps and desperately trying to pull him out of the ship. He didn't budge one inch, and in a moment, a worrisome noise came to her ears. It was the unmistakable sound of a plasma fuel leak. Irena leapt from the ship and rolled into a landing before picking her rifle off the ground and diving for cover in a nearby depression in the grassy terrain.

The IA-42 exploded into a thousand pieces just seconds later, leaving the coywolf alone on the hill overlooking the base, which by now was almost completely controlled by the Cornerians. "_Not this again,_" she thought, knowing full well that she would have to walk several miles away from the base in order for her to be safely extracted by an allied transport or gunship. Still lying in the shallow trench, she reached for her belt and pulled out her communicator.

"Captain! What's the mission status?" she demanded, holding the transmitter device with both paws in front of her face as she lay on her stomach in the ditch.

The voice of the Ichtosian army captain was stressed and worried. "General, it's an absolute failure. The Cornerians have completely beaten us back. The space forces are taking a beating, too. Their flagship was too much for our ships. It's your call, but I think it's best if we take what we've still got and get out of here. We'll have to fall back to our Plan B."

The crestfallen coywolf sighed angrily and lowered her paws to the ground. Her tail fell between her legs, and her ears drooped at the unfortunate news. The Supreme Commander had told her that failure was always an option, but he didn't say that it would be easy to take. Her forces had suffered heavy losses in the intense conflict, and as she craned her head upwards, she saw more of her fighters slowly but surely being routed by Star Fox and the accompanying Cornerian fighters. "Damn it," she muttered under her breath, watching another IA-42 spiral toward the ground after being decimated by Fox's Arwing. The ship twirled wildly in the air and slammed nose-first into the metallic surface of the outpost's courtyard before exploding in grand fashion.

This was awful. This loss would be the first ugly blot on her nearly-spotless combat record, and she wondered what General Blackworth and General Venucci would think after she returned from Katina in defeat. That is, _if_ she could make it back. The time was running out for her to call for an extraction. Realizing this, she gripped her DSR with both paws and took off running away from the combat zone, where a gunship could safely remove her from the planet and take her back to Ichtos.

* * *

Krystal fell in behind Fox's Arwing in the skies directly over the Katina outpost's main tower. For the most part, she had escaped the intense aerial skirmish unscathed. Fewer than ten enemy fighters remained now, and they were in no shape to launch a significant counterattack on their aggressors. Actually, the whole Star Fox team had performed better than they had been expected to—even Slippy had managed to bag several of the black enemy fighters in spite of his rough start.

Fox couldn't relax yet, but he was definitely feeling much more comfortable with the situation now. An additional Cornerian fighter wing had just arrived, and they were making quick work of the remaining Ichtosian ships. Soon, the skies above Katina would be cleared; and with all the other outposts locked down and under Cornerian control, the Ichtosian attack was thwarted on all fronts. Fox and company continued to engage enemy targets, but with nowhere near the intensity they had exhibited earlier. For all intents and purposes, this was a victory lap. The remaining Ichtosian fighters all maxed their engines and attempted to escape, but were unable to break away from the Cornerians who now outnumbered them significantly. Within minutes, every single one of them was shot down.

"That's what you get for messing with the Star Fox team!" Falco tauntingly shouted through his headset as he ripped the last remaining IA-42 to shreds. The black fighter disintegrated in midair, leaving its pilot flailing helplessly as he fell to his inevitable doom.

"Aw, crap." The avian turned to look out the right side of his canopy and noticed a grapefruit-sized hole in his fighter's right wing—yet another blemish to go along with all the others. Unfortunately, this one couldn't simply be painted over.

"What's wrong, Falco?" Fox anxiously asked his wingman in response to his prior remark.

"They shot a hole in my wing. I think the old girl's about had it," Falco lamented, "Looks like I need to either replace the wing or buy a whole new ship. I'm going to guess that it's probably a better deal just to buy a new one than to try to repair an outdated Arwing that's messed up all over. Hey Slippy, you worked for the R&D guys, right? Do you think you can get me a discount?"

"Nah—sorry, Falco. It doesn't work like that," Slippy replied, "I can't transfer my discount to you."

"How about I pay you, and then you buy it for me?" Falco offered.

"I dunno, Falco. I don't like that idea."

Falco was disappointed with Slippy for refusing his reasonable offer. He was strongly considering buying a new fighter, and an intriguing idea came to his mind. "Hey, how much do you guys think a Wolfen would go for new?"

"Are you kidding me, Falco?" Fox unhappily replied, "You can't buy a Wolfen! We don't even know who builds those things! Wolf's probably got someone in his operation who makes them for him and his crew. Besides, our Arwings are just as good."

Fox said that with confidence, but whether it was soundly based was questionable. The Ichtosian IA-42s they had just faced were easily on par with their signature fighters, and in the time following the Aparoid Queen's demise, Star Wolf would have had more than enough time to make significant improvements to their Wolfen fighters. No one had heard anything from the rogue trio ever since the final battle with the Aparoid Queen, and although Fox hinted that they may have survived, he was beginning to doubt it. Strangely, he missed his old rival who had become his unexpected ally in the fight against the parasites. Wolf was part of what made him Fox, and removing the lupine pilot from the equation would somehow be viewed as a negative by Fox, rather than a positive.

With the airborne fight over with and Katina saved, Fox put his Arwing on autopilot and looked down at the outpost below, where several Ichtosians had surrendered and were being transferred to the location's small prison. He pondered, "_Why would anyone want to support a cause like theirs?" _The thought made him wonder what he would do if he discovered that the Cornerian regime he constantly risked his life for was actually not as benevolent as he at first imagined. The 'Janitor of Lylat' title he sometimes gave to himself was unfortunately accurate to some degree—at least to him—but at any rate, he enjoyed the recognition for being Lylat's guardian. The money was nice, too. Thanks to the success of the mission, each of Star Fox's members was set to each receive 250,000 credits—nearly half the amount it would take to buy a new Arwing like the one he was using now.

The Lieutenant Colonel gratefully spoke through Star Fox's collective interface, "Star Fox, thank you so much. I'm not sure how this would have played out without you. Lieutenant General Hare will be transferring your fee of 250,000 into each of your bank accounts any minute now. Good work, team. I'm proud to be working with you."

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

_Yes, I am aware that military generals such as Irena V. are normally not prone to positioning themselves in any kind of live-fire situation. Keep in mind, however, that the Ichtosian Supreme Commander and his generals aren't exactly the kind of people to sit back and watch someone else fight for them._


	7. Chapter 7: Voltimure Reige

**Chapter 7: Voltimure Reige**

Date and Time: March 26, 10 ALW, 6:55 A.M.

A lone figure stood on the beach overlooking a clear, silver ocean at sunrise. He was lupine in form, but several differences separated his appearance from his wolfish brethren. He stood just over seven feet tall, and his muscular physique could not be hidden, even under the knee-length white coat he was wearing. His extremely long gray tail flowed out from behind him and cut several swishes into the sand. He was barefoot, and his feet had no fur on them. Rather, they revealed his leathery black skin, which was also visible on his paws. Claws that could pass as razor blades were featured on his black digits, and a pair of thick, narrow, square spectacles adorned his icy blue eyes. This was Voltimure Reige, the lone _sentient_ inhabitant of the planet Iridium. He had arrived on the advanced planet after leaving behind his abandoned homeworld and his previous life.

The pure ocean water lapped at his feet as he turned his defined head to look back at the city behind him. Many buildings rose thousands of feet into the air and sprawled out along the ground, forming the largest industrial complex anyone had ever seen. Even the city-planet Eledard had nothing on this. However, Reige had nothing to do with any of it. Each and every building was completely finished and in place when he arrived on the planet. Completely finished, and completely deserted, that is. He thought he had heard footsteps inside the complex several times in the past, but nothing could ever shake his conviction that he was alone.

Voltimure could faintly hear a quiet set of footsteps coming toward him through the white beach sand. "_Rose," _he mumbled to himself, recognizing the near-silent pacing of his vixen-like A.I. He turned and faced his beautiful mechanical counterpart, who wore a short black dress which blended with her artificial black skin. Voltimure was still working on completing her physical aspect. Her basic mental characteristics and personality had been finished four months ago, but he wanted another physical presence with him at the base.

His mental condition had been on the decline ever since the mass extinction of his people, which had left him without his beloved wife. He hoped that having someone to talk to and interact with would at least slow his gradual descent into insanity. Rose's calm and pleasing demeanor was based on Voltimure's daughter Violet, whom he had sent away long ago. Iridium was not the place for her. She needed somewhere she could be free.

The midnight-colored A.I. spoke, "Thinking about your old memories, master?"

"Yes," Voltimure sadly nodded. "I miss her so much."

"Your wife?"

"Yeah… She was everything to me. When she was killed, I considered ending my own life for the sole purpose of being with her again." He wept uncontrollably, while Rose kindly looked into his eyes and patted his nose. Voltimure continued with a broken voice, "…Then I found that she had no soul, and neither did I—it was erased when I joined with her. When I die, that's it. I have no eternity. I have no hope of anything after this life. It's the most miserable feeling anyone can ever face, Rose."

"What happened to her, anyway? How did she die?"

Voltimure bared his long, sharp teeth and looked at her with a ferocious scowl that had 'kill' written all over it. The slender A.I. recoiled backwards, nearly tripping over her delicate feet and falling to the beach.

"I'm sorry, master. Please, don't hurt me. I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay, Rose. I just lost myself for a second. I'll explain it to you. I suppose it had to be done at some point anyway. You're a part of my family now, and you deserve to know about your 'father.'"

Voltimure adjusted his narrow glasses and solemnly began his recollection of his the events leading up to his exodus from his home planet, Zharon.

* * *

Date and Time: Tiralis 53, 5014 A.I. (Equivalent 418 BLW), 2250 hours

The thick Zharon jungle rushed by as the silver rotor-wing thundered through the skies. It was the last day of the year 5014, as measured by the Zharons' estimated time of life's origin. It was also Voltimure Reige's 22nd birthday.

Voltimure's generals had allowed him to return home to celebrate the momentous occasion, which marked the Zharon age of complete maturity. Normally, a mate would have been provided for him; but his family could not find a suitable match for their son, who had been drafted into the Zharon military to fight in the 5th Zharon Civil War against the aggressive Kharan people, who had been in a constant struggle against their Zharon brothers for over two hundred years.

Following Voltimure's birthday celebration, he returned by his own will to the military barracks before boarding the rotor-wing to take part in the final movement of the war effort. The Kharan Army had recently been dealt a death blow by the superior Zharon forces, and now the moment had come to force them into submission for the final time. The 33rd rotor-wing battalion was following in the trails left behind the bomber detachment that had been assigned with the task of carpet bombing the main Kharan metropolis. Voltimure's unit's task was to comb the city for survivors after the bombing run.

The young Reige settled down in the left machine gun turret on the chopper when his nearby friend Thaloman commented, "You back so soon, Volty? Did you not get your girl or something?"

Voltimure sadly shook his head in reply.

"Sorry, man—maybe you'll get one some other time," Thaloman continued, feeling genuinely sorry for his friend and patting him on the shoulder. On Zharon, it was a sign of great importance and personal wealth to have an honorable mate; and without one, it was difficult to gain respect from many of the elders of the civilization. Unfortunately for Voltimure, finding a mate on Zharon was very difficult. Although all Zharon females were raised to be excellent spouses and parents, most were chosen by their families for marriage, and if no suitable mate could be found, there was very little chance of a union ever being formed between two Zharons.

Reflecting on his unfortunate fate, Voltimure looked up into the sky above him and saw the eight heavy jet bombers 25,000 feet above the planet's surface. The exhaust from their combined 32 turbofan engines in close formation created a stunning display of vapor trails behind the majestic aircrafts.

"We're getting close—get ready for action," the rotor-wing's pilot barked as the bombers began to descend in altitude towards their destination. The chopper skimmed over the tops of the immense forest trees, and Voltimure could hear the wind created by the choppers whipping up the leaves. Within minutes, the final military operation would commence. The bombers continued to approach the city, their engines creating an ominous whining noise that had a way of putting Voltimure's fur on end. For his whole life, he had wondered how it was even possible for something the size of one of the bombers to even get off the ground—let alone fly thousands of feet above the planet's surface for hours at a time. Minutes later, the bombers entered the city airspace and unloaded their fiery ordnances, wreaking widespread chaos and destruction upon the once-majestic city.

"Go time," said Thaloman to his friend as the chopper dropped altitude and began the landing cycle just outside the city limits.

"Get out there and make us proud!" the pilot commanded before the crew of six Zharons leapt from the craft and cleared their weapons.

The six-man commando team had been dropped a quarter-mile outside the metropolis, and a wide stretch of rolling green hills separated them from their destination. The other units that had been airdropped for the operation assembled to their right and left in the same way Voltimure's unit had, and they quickly began to run toward the city.

In time, the grass turned to pavement, and the sight of the ruined city greeted the eyes of the Zharon soldiers. The chaos was traumatic. Frightened Kharan—men, women, and children alike—all ran through the streets, looking for shelter. The bombing run had been devastating in its scope, and the majority of the city lay in burning ruins. Thaloman feebly ordered his men to open fire on anyone they encountered, trying his best to sound unemotional. The order to eliminate _everyone_—even children—was appalling to each and every one of the commandoes; but they knew better than to disregard the orders of the Zharon Elders. Doing so would mean exile for anyone who disobeyed. Mercilessly, the units gunned down all the fleeing Kharan citizens, filling the burning city with their screams of agony.

Voltimure's unit took the path into the center of the city, nimbly dodging falling rubble and the myriad small fires that had broken out in the ruined city. Bodies of fallen Kharan lay scattered in the streets and alleyways, and the roads themselves had been damaged beyond all repair thanks to the earlier carpet bombings. Thaloman looked over at Voltimure, his closest friend who was one rank below him, and visibly cried at the sight of the innocent civilians lying dead in the streets. Voltimure thought he heard him say, "He who lives by the sword will die by the sword—and the blood is on my blade."

Minutes later, the unit reached the city's epicenter, where four of the heavily reinforced high-rise buildings still stood. These structures were essentially all that was left of the city after the war and the bombings. Without hesitation, Thaloman ordered, "Voltimure! You take the one in the middle! Solo!"

Not questioning his superior's orders, Voltimure kicked in the heavy entry doors of the building which turned out to be the main science and research area for the Kharan metropolis. Surely Thaloman was taking the capital while Voltimure was looking around inside the science building; because after all, Thaloman was the leader of the unit. Voltimure's keen eyes scanned the cold, darkened rooms inside the laboratory, only to find piles of scattered papers on the floor, various writing utensils, and pieces of technology. He knew there was a possibility that armed soldiers could be hiding out in the building, so he very quietly checked his heavy .308-caliber assault rifle and slowly ascended the building's main staircase with caution.

The building had 25 floors, which meant that this could take a very long time. The air inside the building reeked of a strong acid and was completely silent. Numerous times, Voltimure stopped to see if he could hear anything—even breathing—but nothing ever came to his ears. The large Zharon methodically searched every room in the building for survivors, but found nothing on the 18 floors he had looked through.

He glanced at his watch and realized he had been in the building for almost a half-hour. No matter, though—there was no time limit on this operation. The commandoes would be here all night and all of tomorrow if that was what it took to clean the city of all remaining Kharans. Much less concerned about a possible ambush now, Voltimure climbed the stairs to level 19. Just like he had with all the other levels, he began to search every room on the floor for anyone who might have been in hiding. He carelessly opened the first metal door on the right side of the hallway, not expecting to find anything. However, what he saw took the breath away from him.

A young woman had been shackled to the room's back wall. Voltimure looked her over, trying to understand just what he was staring at. She looked nothing like one of his kind. Instead of the sable gray fur of the Zharon or Kharan race, her coat was deep black with royal blue accents on her beautifully shaped muzzle and tail. As he gazed over her shapely figure, he heard her voice in his mind.

"_Please help me—I'm going to die in here._"

Voltimure palpitated with fear. He had never met a telepath before and believed their existence to be a scientific impossibility.

"_Please,_" she repeated.

Voltimure slowly approached the vixen-like creature and stood face to face with her. He gazed into her hypnotic royal blue eyes and carefully moved his paw forward to lightly feather her soft, black hair that fell just short of her shoulders. She didn't seem to mind him touching her at all—in fact, her fear-ridden face broke into a faint smile upon feeling him touch her hair. The tall Zharon tightly gripped the shackles which were anchored to the wall with threaded bolts and ferociously ripped them out one by one using his prodigious strength. He could have simply taken a screwdriver and removed them the easy way, but there was no challenge in that.

With the shackles on the floor, the stranger delicately dropped from the wall and temporarily struggled to find her footing. Voltimure kindly grabbed her shoulders and pulled her upright, helping her to stay on her feet. She looked into the large Zharon's eyes and merely thought, "_Thank you, my friend. Please take this gift as a token of my appreciation. Give me your hand." _

Voltimure cautiously placed his hand in hers while she closed her eyes and relaxed her body. The blue outlines on the bridge of the stranger's muzzle began to glow as Voltimure felt something flowing through her hand into his body. His fur stood on end, and he felt his heartbeat nearly triple in response to the powerful current emanating from the female creature's mind. Seconds later, Voltimure's heartbeat slowed to its normal rate and his fur calmed down as the stranger opened her eyes, which were glowing in the same color as the blue outlines on her face.

"_You now have the abilities and powers of the Revnite people. Use them for the good of all civilization."_

"What's your name?" asked Voltimure inquisitively.

The stranger replied, "_My name is Agatha Dhalva—the princess of Revnus." _

Revnus—something else that didn't exist, at least before Agatha had revealed its existence to Voltimure. The mythological planet lay somewhere in the far-flung Iridium Cluster in which Voltimure now resided and was theorized to be home to a species of beings capable of warping space at will.

Agatha continued, "_I am the last of my people, and I can't go back home—there's nothing left for me there." _

Voltimure pitied the poor creature who had been cruelly mistreated by the Kharan after crash-landing on the lush planet. "Stay here, Agatha. I'll be back as soon as I can," Voltimure reassured her as he left the room and finished his sweep of the building before rejoining his unit to finish the cleanup mission.

Once the city had been cleared of all remaining Kharans, the Zharon unit re-entered their rotor-wings and returned to their Metropolis. The war was finally over. Two days later, all members of the military were officially discharged, with their services no longer needed by the Zharon leadership. After leaving his barracks for the last time, Voltimure returned to his family's home while they were away and packed a large backpack for the long trek that was ahead of him. He had determined to bring Agatha back with him, no matter the cost.

For two days, the young Reige traveled alone through the dense jungles of Zharon on his way to the fallen Kharan city where the mysterious Revnite princess was waiting for him. With his strength and energy nearly gone, Voltimure finally arrived at the city he had left just four days ago. It had taken only a matter of hours for his rotor-wing squadron to reach the city, but on foot, the journey had been considerably more drawn out.

After returning to the scientific research building, Reige ascended the dark staircase and entered the same room where he had found Agatha before. The princess lay curled up in the back left corner of the room, locked in a meditative trance which she was using to fend off starvation by slowing her metabolism. Voltimure slowly walked to her side and placed his hand on her shoulder as her eyes slowly opened and her world came into focus once again.

"_You came back for me?_" pondered the Revnite.

"I promised that I would," Voltimure replied. "I brought you some food if you want it. Please, take it—you must be starving."

The young princess eagerly accepted the apple Voltimure had offered and happily bit into it. He contemplated his decision to rescue her, aware that Agatha would be able to hear his thoughts. He knew that he had deliberately disobeyed his orders to kill anyone he found in the city, Kharan or not. The thought came to his mind that the order may have been given specifically because of her.

"_No—the Elders wouldn't do that_," he thought to himself.

For the moment, he fixed his eyes on the beautiful, strange creature he had unwittingly become part of. The data purge from four days ago had transferred the knowledge of the Revnite princess to his brain and linked their minds together as one.

* * *

Date and Time: October 7, 21 BLW, 6:45 A.M.

The date was October 7th, 21 years before Andross would first rear his ugly head and attack the Lylat System. Aboard the Cornerian ONYX cruiser _Phaidon,_ Lt. Colonel Graves adjusted his armored chestplate and loaded his rifle in preparation for the day's events. The order for xenocide had been given. Xenocide, as it was referred to in the elite circles of the ONYX battalion, was the act of completely eradicating a race or civilization that posed a significant threat to the well-being of Corneria. Whether or not it was ethically or morally correct was irrelevant—all that mattered was the safety of the Cornerian people.

As Graves was adjusting his utility belt, one of the squad captains below him in rank approached the eagle and said, "Lieutenant Colonel, the General wants to have a word with you." Graves tensed up at the thought of his general, Raven O'Donoughue. He wasn't sure what to expect—the general had become very uptight of late in regard to the upcoming search and destroy mission on a planet far from home. The eagle, feigning confidence, strolled to the general's quarters and opened the door. The image of the large avian leader appeared on the large screen that covered most of the room's back wall; and his deep, rough voice resounded in the office as Graves closed the door behind him.

The old raven powerfully projected his message to his subordinate officer. "Horace—I need to give you some background on this mission. Since I've chosen you to lead the attack from the front line, I thought you should know a bit more about what we're doing out here."

"Sir, you picked _me _to lead the attack?" Graves exclaimed, shocked at his selection.

"Yes," said the ancient raven, "I know you've got what it takes, Horace. I knew it from day one. Get out there and do us proud today, Lieutenant Colonel Graves."

"Yes, sir," the eagle replied.

"Now," continued the general, "Let me explain the circumstances behind the recent order. As you know, xenocide is not something to be taken lightly—it's a harsh, cruel task that never shows even one bit of mercy. We are up against a species in possession of technology possibly hundreds of years ahead of ours. Here's a transcript of what we found in one of their databases," he said, showing Graves a piece of paper with a picture of scattered hieroglyphic writing. The eagle squinted to see it through the screen, but was still able to decently observe it.

"What's this?" he asked.

"That," said the General, "Is without a doubt the Iridian glyphic code. Did you ever read anything about the people of Iridium?"

"I can't say I ever have, sir," Graves replied.

"Well then," said the raven, "Maybe this will enlighten you." The old bird cleared his throat before continuing, "There is very little we know about the residents of the Iridium cluster which we are now in, but what we do know is that several ancient ruins on Katina and what we call Dinosaur Planet have this writing scrawled on them. No one anywhere in Lylat has the slightest clue about the meaning of any of it. It also appears that this 'language' could theoretically be used as a programming code for mechanical purposes."

Lieutenant Colonel Graves mulled over what his general had said before asking, "With all due respect, sir, what does that have to do with this mission?"

The raven replied, "Two months ago, we sent scouts to four of the planets in the Iridium Cluster. This is the only planet that we found life on. Actually, I shouldn't jump to conclusions—we lost the ship that was investigating the largest of the four planets in this system, so we don't know what's going on there. Anyhow, our men intercepted these communications from the outskirts of their metropolis. They match perfectly with the prints from Katina. This planet is currently demilitarized, but if they were to ever arm themselves, they would have the potential to become the greatest threat we have ever faced. That is why we cannot allow them to live. Operation Zenith has began, Lieutenant Colonel. You have one objective—leave no survivors. The rest of the fleet will handle anyone who tries to escape into space while the _Phaidon _lands on the planet's surface. You make sure no one_ gets_ the chance to escape into space."

"Yes, sir."

The flight to the surface of Zharon was as silent as the grave. No one was willing to talk about what they had been ordered to do. All aboard the planet-bound _Phaidon_ questioned the mission, but it was not their duty to object to it. This was a peaceful people, some of whom had never picked up a weapon in their entire lives. For nearly a half-hour, silence continued aboard the ONYX ship until the _Phaidon_ extended its landing gear and slowly hovered down to a stop five miles from the Zharon metropolis. "All units, let's move," said Lieutenant Colonel Graves with authority, trying to mask the conflicting emotions in his mind as best he could.

* * *

In the Zharon metropolis, the residents had been placed on high alert by the arrival on an alien vessel. All were wary, but only Voltimure could tell the true intentions of the visitors due to the abilities the Revnite princess had given to him. After he had rescued her from imprisonment in the Kharan science building, Voltimure had quietly brought her back to the metropolis and unofficially taken her as his wife. For more than four hundred years, no one on Zharon had ever seen her with the exception of Voltimure. As he peered out one of the narrow, thickly plated glass windows that lined the sides of his laboratory, he was able to make out the figures of armed soldiers advancing towards the city.

"It's an attack!" he screamed, abandoning his research and racing down the circular staircase as fast as he possibly could.

He repeated the warning to each and every person in the building, ordering them to evacuate the city immediately if they wished to survive. The word spread like a wildfire across the metropolis as Voltimure jumped into his vehicle and drove toward his home. Throwing open the door to the medium-sized residence, he found his wife nursing their newborn cub Violet.

"Agatha, we have to get out of here! We're being attacked!" he yelled.

His wife gave no legible reply; only a garbled stream of thoughts radiating fear and terror. The Revnite carefully detached the cub from her breast and zipped up her bodysuit before following her husband outside. ONYX was just outside the city limits. Lieutenant Colonel Graves was having great difficulty controlling his emotions, as were the rest of the soldiers. These were innocent people they were going to be killing. They had done _nothing_ to hurt the Cornerians, and probably never would.

Graves stuffed the emotions into the back of his mind and roared, "For Corneria! Attack!"

The Cornerian unit rushed into the metropolis with all guns blazing. Terrified Zharons ran everywhere and fell quickly beneath the might of the 1,500 ONYX troopers who had entered the city. Several large Zharon buildings began to fall as coordinated gunship strikes flew in to assist the ground forces. Voltimure had taken the cub from Agatha, who now trailed him significantly, unable to keep pace with the long-limbed Zharon. The last thing Voltimure wanted was to leave his wife behind, but he continued to hear her reassuring him to save himself and protect Violet. He looked back at his wife just in time to see a building fall in front of her path. It was the last time he ever saw her. Voltimure began to feel her thoughts being cut off as she was gunned down by ONYX laser fire.

The Cornerian gunships were now hemming in the city from all sides, preventing any Zharons from escaping into the forests, where they would become difficult to find. Seeing a small gap in the defense, Voltimure rushed forward and dove into the forest, being careful not to crush his daughter in the landing. The crash to the ground was painful, and his shoulder was hurt, but he had made it. He was safe now. As he sat down under a large tropical tree, he was able to feel the lives of his former comrades being snuffed out one by one until there were none left but him and his infant daughter, who cried softly on his lap.

Voltimure had been concerned about the future of his daughter when she had been born with her mother's fur. No one in the Zharon Metropolis even knew that Voltimure had a mate, let alone a daughter with irregular fur coloration and purple eyes. Now, she was one of only two survivors of the unnecessary and cold-blooded holocaust. Violet continued to cry as her father kindly stroked her head. She was the only part of Voltimure's world that was still intact.

* * *

Lieutenant Colonel Graves surveyed the damage his forces had done to the sprawling metropolis. The mission had been completed flawlessly, but no one was celebrating. This was truly a hollow victory. After examining the corpses of some of the fallen Zharons, Graves's attention turned to the body of a black-furred vulpine that lay on the ground. Her clothing, her fur, and her fox-like physical build bore no similarity to the sharp-edged lupine form of the Zharons. The eagle knelt on the ground next to her and checked her carotid artery for a pulse. The heartbeat was almost invisible, but it was still there. Graves, however, was still full of adrenaline from the mission and failed to notice this as he ordered his men to return to the _Phaidon _for extraction.

* * *

_Two days later..._

Agatha Dhalva forced her eyes open. It had been two days since the Cornerian attack, and she was still lying in the streets of the fallen metropolis. She was barely alive—even her thoughts were so weak that Voltimure would not have been able to tell that she was still breathing.

"_Where is Voltimure?_ _Did he survive?_"

The wounded Revnite desperately reached out for anything that was still alive, but found nothing as she focused what was left of her mind into forcing more blood to her damaged heart. She slowly began to feel stronger as her blood began to circulate regularly again. Her only option now was to leave the planet; but first, she had to eat. Every movement for the Revnite was painful and difficult, but after struggling for nearly a half-hour, she found a few scraps in a nearby garbage can. The food was rotten and disgusting, but she didn't care. It was edible and that was all that mattered. The princess, now able to stand up after her revolting meal, slowly limped around the city, searching for the airfield. The sight of the hundreds of thousands of dead Zharons who had been murdered in the streets made the Revnite furious. "_I will avenge this," _thought the princess, who continued to search the city for a usable spacecraft.

After hours of searching, Agatha reached the airfield, where she found to her despair that most of the spacefaring vehicles had been sabotaged beyond repair, and in some cases, beyond recognition. There was only one scouting craft in the corner of the complex that had escaped with minimal structural damage. The princess slowly climbed aboard the small, wedge-shaped ship, which required the user to back into a prone position in order to fly it. As she ignited the engines and shut the large canopy above her, she took one last look at the world which had been her home for more than four centuries before she launched the scout and left it all behind forever.

* * *

_Present day_

"I'm sorry for you, master," Rose softly spoke, trying to comfort her distressed creator. Tears flowed down Voltimure's cheeks behind his glasses, and his hunched-over posture was far removed from his normally powerful stance.

"Thank you, my dear," he sorrowfully replied, pulling off his glasses and wiping away his tears with the back of his leathery paw. "There's only one thing I can do about it now, and that's to make sure that I do everything I can to make sure the Supreme Commander of Ichtos has everything he needs to subdue the Cornerians. When he brings them to their knees, both my revenge and his will be complete."

He grew quiet after making his speech and looked out over the clear ocean into the horizon ahead of him. The sun was beginning to rise higher in the sky, but its rays were not powerful enough to cause discomfort. In actuality, Iridium was very far from its sun and began as a frozen wasteland much like Fichina. However, a highly advanced climate modification system had been implemented long ago by the extinct original inhabitants. The temperature on the planet's surface never dropped below 70 or rose above 85. The climate alteration was not intrusive enough to negatively affect the weather, so rain would still fall and keep the planet's plant life from dying.

The intelligent A.I. could tell exactly what Voltimure was thinking as he stared off into the distance. She wasn't telepathic like him, but her eccentric master's mind worked so similarly to hers that both of them were fully capable of making conversation without saying a word. The brain of Voltimure Reige was not of any normal composition. His connection with the Revnite princess had changed the way his thoughts processed; and if his mind were to be examined, it would more closely resemble a computer than a living brain. Rose didn't have to speak, but she knew that her master enjoyed hearing her soft voice.

The large Zharon turned his head and pulled his paws out of his coat pockets. "Why did you come down here in the first place? I know it wasn't to ask me about Agatha."

"That's correct, master. I wanted to let you know about something that happened with the central system computer. It's one of those messages again."

Reige scowled. From time to time, the complex's main computer would randomly spit out cryptic messages relating to impending doom or a crisis situation. He had tried to silence the strange messages by signing into the system as its head administrator, but whenever he would do that, it would revert back to its previous settings less than an hour later. It was beginning to worry him; and he was starting to suspect paranormal involvement, or something of the like.

"Let me see the message, Rose," Voltimure sternly ordered. The black vixen pulled a small three-dimensional projector off her right thigh and held it in her paw for Voltimure to see. Using her mechanically-oriented mind, the A.I. accessed the message, which appeared with a blue glow above the rounded handheld projector.

"Do you want me to read it to you, or would you like to do it yourself?"

"You read it," he consented.

"Here's what the message had to say: "_All the pieces are in place. Nightfall is almost upon us. Make haste, or all will be lost."_ I don't understand it," she said as she closed the message and clipped the projector back onto the elastic band on her leg.

"Another stupid parable. Let me guess who the origin tag belonged to—it was 'Archetype K.R.' again, wasn't it?" said Voltimure as he rolled his eyes in disgust.

"Correct, master. It was him."

Reige scoffed, "Well, if what he has to say is so important, I wonder why he doesn't just tell it to me personally. That's the third one of those messages so far. Bah! I might as well just ignore them and learn to deal with that ghost in the machine."

"Maybe, master. But what if there's a meaning behind it?"

"I'm sure there is, but I don't care. It doesn't concern me." Voltimure readjusted his glasses again, then extended his black paw and lightly felt Rose's dark skin. It was smooth and even, but it lacked something. He raised his left paw and stroked his chin, pondering his options related to Rose's completion.

"Would you like some fur, my dear? You can pick the color," he added, still holding the A.I.'s slender forearm with his large paw.

"I would love that, master," she happily replied. Voltimure slowly walked back across the beach towards a large group of pampas grasses where he had placed his heavy black boots. He scraped the soles of his bare feet with his paws, making sure that the beach's white sands didn't find their way into his leather shoes. After slipping into the boots with some difficulty, Voltimure lead his synthetic counterpart up a grassy bank back into the complex, where a set of heavy automatic doors slid open for the scientist and his assistant. Voltimure and Rose walked up to a silver rectangular portal frame that contained what seemed to be a green liquid within its boundaries. The Zharon touched his fingers to a small blue electronic mini-screen on the top right portion of the portal and selected his personal laboratory as his destination.

"You first," Voltimure said with a smile, motioning with his paw for Rose to step through the portal.

The green liquid surface rippled on its own accord. The dark-skinned vixen slowly stepped through the frame, with the viscous green solution creating several oozing sounds as she passed through into the laboratory. Voltimure followed suit and seated himself in a black, wheeled office chair behind his computer desk. The operating system was far more advanced than any that could be found anywhere in Lylat, and was primarily used for operating and maintaining heavy industrial machinery. The tall Zharon opened an application he had created to help himself build a better sentient A.I. as he comfortably crossed his legs in his leather chair. The program booted quickly, and the last opened window showed a three-dimensional rendering of Rose's body, accurate down to the most minute detail.

"Let me see… fur characteristics," he mumbled, dragging the white computer mouse across the taskbar. "Here it is." He paused and rotated his chair towards the A.I., who stood five feet to his right. "If you don't mind, you need to… well…" He pinched the air with his fingers above his shoulders and moved them apart, nonverbally telling Rose to slip out of her dress. The midnight-colored fox complied and removed her simple clothing, neatly folding it and placing it on Voltimure's desk to the right of the computer mouse.

"What color would you like, my dear?" The scientist pulled up a new window showing samples of more than fifty fur presets and beckoned for Rose to come closer so she could get a good look at them.

"Do you have a blue setting? Or is that impossible?"

"Ah, yes—the Cerinian texture set. Very unique indeed. Is that what you would like?"

"Let me see what it looks like on the rendering first," she suggested, placing her paws on her hips and leaning into the screen.

Voltimure clicked on the sample for the Cerinian fur and dragged it onto the computerized model of his A.I. A loading box appeared shortly before Rose's rendering sported the blue and white fur of a native Cerinian.

"Does that look alright to you? Keep in mind that this isn't actually real fur. It's a very good analogue, but it's completely synthetic."

Rose admired the appearance of her own model. There were a few things she wanted to change about it, but for the most part, she was pleased with it.

"Can you darken the blue part a little bit?" she asked.

"Of course." The scientist dragged a darkening tool over the model and shaded the blue portions into a deeper shade of cerulean, creating a high amount of contrast between the main color and the white on the rendering's torso. "Is that good?"

"Perfect," she happily replied.

"It's all set. Have a seat in the white chair over there, my dear. I'm going to put you out for this one. I think it could hurt very badly if you're awake."

The black A.I. seated herself in the medical chair, which resembled a seat in a dentist's office. Several operating appendages surrounded it, and an overhead lamp activated, nearly blinding Rose with its light. She felt Voltimure reach behind her back and press her power/reset button just above the base of her furless tail. The world quickly faded from her view, and she felt no more.


	8. Chapter 8: Plan B

**Chapter 8: Plan B**

Date and Time: April 1, 10 ALW, 10:18 A.M.

"I'm sorry, Commander. I've failed you."

The disgraced General Volkchelovek sank down into a red leather chair across from the Supreme Commander's gray sofa which he was reclining on. The vulpine dictator comfortably rested with his head on a soft, faux fur pillow and a blanket pulled over his chest. From the looks of it, he was not terribly concerned about his general's failure to complete the takeover of Katina.

"I told you failure is always an option, Irena," he warmly murmured, turning his head to look at his favorite general. "It's okay. I anticipated that possibility months ago. At least you survived to fight another day." He felt like his words were bouncing off the coywolf's head and not getting through to her, because her expression didn't change at all. She was every bit as bitter as she was before she came to see her leader in his private suite. "What's going through your mind, sweetheart?" he kindly asked.

Slightly taken aback by the Commander's use of the word "sweetheart" in addressing her, she replied, "I think we could have held on to Outpost 1. No—I don't think. I _know_. We could have pulled it off if a team of mercenaries hadn't shown up and ruined our air division. That really turned the tide of the battle. I've never seen anything like it before. It was forty of ours against about fifteen or so of them. Four of the fighters had different markings, and they looked different than the others, too. Those people ripped our fighters apart faster than I thought possible. To put it bluntly, they raped us."

The vague description of the hired foes was just enough to stir up the dictator's memory. "Star Fox," he pensively said with a soft voice, still lying on his back on the sofa. "Their leader, Fox McCloud, is one of the best pilots in existence along with his right hand man, Falco Lombardi. Just those two alone could take on almost any fighter squadron anyone could throw at them. Fox is a legend in Lylat. No one has ever been able to come close to matching his achievements—and they probably never will." The dark-furred vulpine paused and smiled before finishing, "…But I think I could take him down."

Irena scowled and gazed up at the ceiling. She had only gotten a taste of what Star Fox was capable of, but she already hated them. They had irreparably damaged her reputation, and she didn't want to have to face the other two Ichtosian generals with regards to her loss. Her leader could tell that she was still angry and spiteful because of this; and as he looked at her, he began to formulate a way to make her feel better about herself.

"Come on—lighten up, General," he said, trying to raise his officer's spirits back to their natural state. Still, no response came from the infuriated coywolf. "I've got an idea—I'm leaving later to visit Dr. Reige so I can check on his progress with my battleship. Why don't you come with me? Actually, I'm _ordering_ you to come with me." With a sizeable grin, he told the female officer, "Pack your bags and meet me in the hangar. We're going to be staying overnight at Reige's place."

* * *

Two hours later, the Ichtosian dictator and his general arrived at their destination. General Volkchelovek had never seen a world as beautiful as this one. The entire planet seemed to radiate a brilliant silver light that nearly hypnotized her with its majesty. Highly reflective clouds encircled the entire planet, which was almost completely covered with metallic structures and buildings, with the exception of the oceans. However, instead of appearing blue like most bodies of water, the Iridian ocean was of a pure silver which matched the iridescent monochrome color theme of the rest of the planet perfectly and further intrigued the fascinated coywolf. "What is this place?" she asked with amazement and wonder.

"This," replied the Commander with a smile, "…is Iridium. Do you like it?"

Irena was almost lost for words as she stammered, "I…it's beautiful. What kind of people live here, anyway?"

"That's just it," the Commander explained in reply, "Dr. Reige is the only resident. I don't know how it happened, but somehow the original inhabitants must've died at some point."

Irena quieted down and simply gazed at the planet as the transport craft continued to approach it. It was a strange world, and the fact that its natural species had unexplainably become extinct was almost haunting in its bizarreness. It made her wonder more about this 'Voltimure Reige' person. Who was he? And why was he here? She would only have to wait a few more minutes to find out.

"Entering the atmosphere. Make sure you're buckled up," the Commander announced. The black transport ship shook violently as it entered the silver planet's ionosphere, with red flames flashing off the transport's nose and windshield as it descended through the atmosphere. In time, the shaking slowly stopped, and the transport broke through the Iridian cloud cover. The enormous metallic complex below them was now visible along with the beautiful clear ocean. Irena gasped aloud at the sight. Nothing this magnificent and complicated had ever been built before. Whoever the natives had been, they were certainly _very_ intelligent beings. Hundreds of spires and towers rose thousands of feet above the complex, covering the flat landscape and creating the largest and tallest metropolis of its kind.

With so many buildings around, Irena began to wonder where her leader was going to land. Fortunately, he had been here before, and he had it all under control. A break in the skyscrapers appeared, and in the gap between two towers was a cavernous hangar entrance on level with the ground. A series of flashing yellow lights was present to guide any visiting ships into the large space. The Commander calmly cut the throttle and slowly flew his transport into the hangar before lowering it to the reflective silver floor and killing the engines. The hangar he had landed in was beyond enormous. In fact, it would have been large enough to hold not one, but two Cornerian dreadnaughts. For now, his ship was the only craft in the vast hangar.

The vulpine unfastened his seat belt and stood up, opening an overhead luggage compartment and pulling his wheeled suitcase out. He had packed lightly, as he didn't expect to stay for more than one night. All that was in his suitcase were two pairs of cargo pants, two t-shirts, extra socks and underwear, and a pair of swim trunks in case of the likely event that he went to the beach during his stay. Of course, he brought a small suite of electronic equipment as well, just in case he needed to contact someone back on Ichtos. Closing the cupboard, he pulled on his gray trench coat over his military jacket and pressed the button which opened the transport's side door and lowered the ramp so they could comfortably exit the vehicle.

"Is the doctor supposed to meet us here?" Irena nervously asked, not knowing who or what Voltimure was. A portal frame stood on the rectangular hangar's longest wall, but apart from that, the area was completely devoid of anything other than walls, ceilings, and floors. The coywolf felt uneasy, but she trusted that she was safe with her Commander. She knew he wouldn't let any harm befall her.

The portal device suddenly activated, and the tall figure of the lupine scientist stepped out. Irena's eyes opened wide upon seeing Reige for the first time. Her leader hadn't given her much of a description of the Zharon, so what she saw was beyond intimidating to her. Voltimure's loud footsteps echoed across the hangar space as he neared them. Shaking ever so slightly, Irena clutched her leader's paw and drew close to him. The dictator smiled, feeling her paw in his own and watching his eccentric acquaintance come closer.

"Who's this lovely flower?" the imposing lupine asked, cocking his head and looking at Irena curiously. His voice did not fit his immense physical build in the least, and it was best described as being moderate in pitch and dripping with eccentricity. The scientist stuttered often, seemed overly enthusiastic about nearly everything, and exhibited several borderline personality disorders; but for all his quirks, he was very kind and hospitable. Irena attempted to peer through his square-framed glasses into his icy blue irises, but she found herself unable to hold her gaze. She was filled with a primal fear every time she looked directly into his eyes, almost as if he was looking into her soul with an intensity that threatened to injure her.

"This is my friend and general Irena Volkchelovek," The Commander proudly explained to the doctor, who carelessly dipped his paws into the pockets of his large white lab coat and addressed the short general.

"Hello, my dear! I am Voltimure Reige—the administrator of this magnificent facility. All that I have is at your disposal. I trust you'll choose to stay overnight?" Voltimure desperately wanted his guests to accept his offer. Spending years upon years alone in the facility was not good for him, and one A.I. was not enough to keep him company.

The dictator answered for her, "Of course, Doctor," which caused the tall lupine to perk up his ears and happily shake his oversized tail.

Voltimure led his two guests through the portal he had just come through, which spat them out in a hallway in the huge complex's main construction area. Voltimure knew exactly why the Ichtosian dictator had come to see him, so he decided to show him his remarkable progress on the battleship he had been commissioned to build for the Supreme Commander. The exuberant scientist rambled on meaninglessly about various subjects not pertaining to anything important while he led them down the long, white hallway that was covered with advanced plastic panels.

The inside of the base was every bit as fascinating as the outside. Powerful white recessed lights more than illuminated the hall, and several glass panels were carved into the ceiling to allow the natural light from the sun to flow in. At the end of the hallway, a heavy blast door split into two halves and slid open for Voltimure and his guests; and for the first time, the Commander caught a glimpse of his future flagship. On the other side of the blast door was an observation platform with a railing which the dictator comfortably leaned up against, admiring the mad scientist's brilliant work.

The black battleship below was mostly finished. All that remained to be done was for the armor to be installed on the front half of the ship's hull and for the main cannons to be mounted onto the underside. In appearance, it bore a haunting resemblance to the Aparoid-era _Great Fox_, albeit with a far sleeker hull and wings that pointed forwards. Many months ago, the Supreme Commander had presented his proposed design to Reige, who had turned the dictator's dream into a reality. The Cornerian dreadnaught was always his favorite design, and for his personal flagship, he wouldn't want anything different. An enormous smile crossed his face, and he simply stared out into the large expanse several hundred feet downwards to where the _ISV Phoenix_ was parked. Voltimure smiled back at him and heartily clapped his shoulder in response to his apparent satisfaction.

The dictator turned his head to look at the scientist and commended him on his work. "Superb, as always."

"Don't mention it, Supreme Commander. It's all I can do for you," the Zharon replied with a smile and a laugh.

"So, how soon will she be ready for action?"

Voltimure stroked the stash of fur under his chin, pondering his answer. The _Phoenix_ would be completed soon enough, but it was important to the dictator that it be finished as quickly as possible. With that having been said, though, it was never a good idea to try to rush perfection.

"Two weeks at most," the scientist confidently replied to the Commander's approval.

"Not bad, Reige—not bad," the dictator spoke with a grin. His smile quickly diminished, and his normal, sober expression returned as he said to the scientist, "I'll send my regards to the Cornerians for you."

The Supreme Commander and General Volkchelovek followed Voltimure down the hall and through another portal which took them to the living quarters, where Voltimure insisted that they pick any room they desired. The Commander thanked his tall friend and opened the door to the suite he had stayed in the last time he was here as Voltimure turned away and retreated to his lab, where his A.I. Rose resided.

The room was covered in the same white plastic that pervaded the entire interior of the complex, and a huge white bed occupied the space on the right wall. It looked magnificently comfortable, and Irena quickly felt the urge to sink into it and slip away into a deep sleep just by looking at it. A large flat-screen TV adorned the wall opposite the bed and allowed access to channels from all over the neighboring planetary systems. How Voltimure managed to arrange that was a mystery, but the Commander certainly wasn't complaining about it. A large, retractable panel covered a similarly large windowpane that, when opened, provided a breathtaking view of the city and the beach.

The building these particular living quarters were stationed in was the tallest one around. The room had a small balcony which could be used to better observe the surroundings, and it also contained a full-sized refrigerator (not filled, of course) in addition to a huge dresser and a walk-in closet. The large, well-appointed bathroom contained a double sink with a flat, wide mirror; a good-sized frosted shower stall, and a good-sized spa tub that was easily large enough for two people.

After considering his next move, the vulpine Commander unloaded his suitcase and put everything into one of the white dresser's main drawers; except for his orange swim trunks, which he took with him into the bathroom to change into. With the status of his flagship confirmed, all that was left for him was to enjoy himself on the abandoned metropolis planet.

* * *

With the immediate Ichtosian threat at least temporarily repulsed, the _Cardinal _and the remainder of the 7th fleet returned to Corneria to dry-dock and make repairs. With their temporary home unavailable for occupancy at the moment, Star Fox climbed aboard their Arwings and headed for the surface of their home planet. As they flew over the Cornerian ocean en route to the Cornerian military base, Fox was able to get a good look at the damage on Falco's Arwing. It was every bit as bad as the avian had suggested. At the very least, the entire right wing assembly would have to be replaced, and it would probably be more cost-effective to buy a new fighter than to try to make repairs on the badly scuffed Arwing.

After obtaining clearance to land, Star Fox lowered their ships into the same hangar they had reunited in. All four members of Star Fox climbed out of their fighters, with Krystal adorably stretching and letting out a cute yawn that elicited a faint smile from Fox. He couldn't pull his eyes off of her, and soon, he found her looking back at him with her head slightly tilted with a sweet, innocent smile on her face.

Falco was the first one to break the silence. "Hey, I'm off to the Space Dynamics workshop. Anybody feel like coming with me to look at their new toys?"

Fox was filled with jealousy toward the bird. It was so unlike him to conserve his funds, but after the Aparoid war, he had amassed enough money to buy any Cornerian fighter he wanted. The vulpine barely managed to conceal his displeasure by burying it in the back of his mind. The thought of Falco one-upping him and buying a more advanced fighter than his was sickening to him.

"No thanks, Falco," Fox sourly replied.

The bird quickly walked off, muttering under is his breath, "Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." However, before he could leave the hangar on the way to the fighter workshop, Peppy threw open the door that led from the hangar to the military offices and hopped down the stairs, yelling for him to come back. "Don't go yet, Falco! I've got news for all of you that you're going to love!"

All four pilots gathered around Peppy, who seemed to be in a much better mood than he was the last time they met him. A smile was on his lips, and he seemed at peace again after the immediate threat on Katina had been averted. "What is it, Peppy?" Fox impatiently asked.

The old hare cleared his throat and replied, "After seeing what kind of machinery our enemies are using, I decided that it would be in our best interest to upgrade your ships. The Cornerian military will pay for it all. It won't cost you a cent."

Fox loosened up and smiled as his foul mood fled from him. "General Graves doesn't know about this, does he?" he asked, still slyly grinning.

Peppy chuckled in response to McCloud's question, "Of course not, Fox. Let's get you all into your new ships before he finds out."

Peppy and the four pilots of Star Fox stepped out of the large hangar onto the concrete surface that comprised most of the landing area for military spacecraft. Several boxy armored SUVs were parked against the side of the gray hangar in their designated parking spots, which were specifically marked for use exclusively by Cornerian military officers.

The hare reached into his pockets, digging through the various scraps of paper and trinkets buried within before pulling out a nondescript set of keys that would grant him access to one of the vehicles. He slid the key into the driver's side door of the first SUV they came to and turned it, pulling the door open and awkwardly clambering into the raised vehicle, which had no running boards to make access easier for the out-of-shape Lieutenant General. After shutting the door with a solid "thunk," Peppy pressed a button on the door sill that unlocked all the other doors so that Fox and his team could enter.

Falco immediately took the opportunity to jump in front of Fox and steal the front passenger seat from him as the vulpine angrily bickered about his brash wingman's selfish move. That is, until a lovely glance from Krystal silenced him and reminded him that he would be forced to sit next to her in the back seat. Some punishment. Fox opened the right-rear door of the SUV and allowed Slippy to get in while Krystal waited for him to flounder over to the seat on the left before moving to climb into the vehicle herself.

Just before she raised her foot to step onto the SUV's high door sill, she felt Fox's paw lightly smack her rear end. In shock, she spun around with her jaw hanging wide open, almost as if to say, "You did _not_ just do that!" Fox cunningly winked and smiled back at the bewildered vixen, who couldn't believe what he had just done. After Krystal had seated herself in the middle of the three back seats, Fox slid in next to her and pulled the heavy door shut before Peppy fired up the SUV's heavy-duty diesel engine and shifted the vehicle into drive. Krystal wasted no time in pinching Fox at the base of his tail, causing the red vulpine to yelp in pain.

"Hey! What's going on back there?" Falco hollered over the noise of the rumbling engine, turning around in his seat to find Fox nuzzling Krystal with his nose while sensually stroking her arm. Slippy had never felt more awkward in his life, and he shuffled as far over in his seat as he possibly could while Falco quietly laughed in response to the two vulpines' impulsive actions towards each other. Peppy glanced into his rear view mirror and chuckled as he drove across the light beige concrete toward the exit to the base.

A right turn onto a military-only service road and a harsh bump across a derelict railroad track brought them to a series of warehouses that were intentionally designed to look unkempt and neglected. In actuality, they housed the more secretive divisions of the Space Dynamics Corporation, which had close ties to the military and was responsible for designing and producing the bulk of Corneria's military equipment.

Peppy slowed the SUV to a stop in front of a security booth with a striped gate that blocked further access. Without saying a word, the hare simply flashed his badge as Lieutenant General, and the black hound in the booth quickly raised the gate and allowed them to enter the restricted area. The black asphalt gradually broke up and turned to dust and gravel, causing the ride in the SUV to deteriorate as it bounced around on the uneven surface. As Peppy neared the first of the hangar-sized corrugated buildings, the two halves of the front entrance slowly creaked open, allowing the Lieutenant General to drive in and park his vehicle inside the structure, which contained a state-of-the-art interior that completely belied its rusty shell.

Peppy opened his door and pulled the keys out of the ignition as he and his former teammates dropped out of the raised vehicle onto the dark gray floor. None of the team's members had been in here before, save for Slippy, who had been inside the Space Dynamics skunk works twice in the past few months while working with the Cornerian Army's R&D department. The building's gray metallic floor was completely empty. Several fans were present at the tops of the end walls, but they were not in use because the temperature was a comfortable 67 degrees Fahrenheit. While the team looked around the room, trying to take in their surroundings, a lanky raccoon wearing a black jacket and dark khaki pants quickly walked through a set of automatic doors to the team's left and approached Peppy.

"Lieutenant General Hare—glad you could make it, sir," he cordially announced with a very faint smile, extending his paw for Peppy to shake.

"My pleasure, Anderson," the hare jovially replied. "This is the Star Fox team I talked to you about earlier. As I explained, they are in need of some new equipment. Why don't you show 'em what you've got?"

"Of course. Follow me, team." The pilots of Star Fox fell in behind the raccoon, who was the head of the special research division for Space Dynamics, and followed him through the sliding door and down a long hallway with many doors that led to the offices occupied by the technicians working for the corporation. At the end of the hallway was another set of automatic doors, which slid open for them.

"This is it," the raccoon proudly announced. "This is where we keep our prototypes. You're very lucky to be in here, Star Fox; but I know about your reputation, and I know the Lieutenant General won't steer me wrong." Fox's eyes scoured the room, which was filled to the brim with various spacecraft, mostly fighters. There were three levels to the room, all of which were flooded with experimental machinery. Slippy must have thought he had died and gone to heaven. Hundreds of perfectly usable fighters lay scattered around the huge hangar's three levels, and each member of Star Fox could pick any one of them and take it—free of charge.

"Now THIS is what I'm talking about!" Falco enthusiastically exclaimed, looking around the room before his eyes finally came to rest on a particularly interesting blue fighter in the back corner of the bottom level.

"Take your pick, Star Fox—you've earned it," the raccoon said with a smile. Peppy stood next to him, watching his former teammates split up and roam through the wares like kids in a candy store. It made him wish that he was still fit enough to fly. Sitting behind the controls of an Arwing and taking on Andross's forces was the highlight of military career. After that, nothing even came close to matching the sheer, unadulterated thrill of fighting alongside three of his closest friends while protecting the entire Lylat System.

Falco quickly maneuvered through the sea of experimental spacecraft on the way to the blue ship he had taken interest in. The fighter looked like it had been built solely for maneuverability, and that was exactly what the avian wanted. Clearing the last fighter in front of the blue craft, he was finally able to view it from point blank. A huge smile permeated his beak at the sight. The fighter was slightly larger than an Arwing and featured forward-angled wings in contrast to the traditional swept-wing design of Star Fox's trademark fighter. The cockpit was farther forward on the fuselage than normal, with the wings at the extreme rear end of the vehicle along with two large tail stabilizers that would surely help with aerobatics.

He wanted to open the cockpit and climb in to see how the interior felt, but obtaining access without a ladder would be a challenge. Shirking the apparent need for assistance, he nimbly jumped up, caught the edge of the fighter's right wing, and swung himself up onto the blue ship's frame before carefully tiptoeing up the fuselage and over the glass canopy of the cockpit, which he opened from the front while standing on the fighter's narrow, pointed nose. Once he was comfortably seated inside the surprisingly spacious cockpit, he manually pulled the canopy shut and admired the control layout in front of him. The smooth dash interface was the most ergonomically perfect unit he had ever seen, and its utter simplicity was a breath of fresh air in a world plagued with increasingly confusing military equipment. He hadn't even gotten the chance to take it out for a test flight yet, but he already loved it. The avian combed the layout in front of him with his keen eyes and noticed a silver plaque to the right of the touchscreen dash interface that read "S-20 Interceptor."

"_Perfect._"

Having made up his mind, Falco re-opened the canopy, jumped out onto the hangar floor, and began to navigate through the maze of space fighters on his way back to the entry platform where Peppy and the raccoon still stood. That S-20 was his.

Meanwhile, Fox and Krystal lackadaisically climbed the stairs to the second level, clinging to each other's furry paws and walking side by side. Having the telepathic Cerinian as his friend had its perks, such as her giving Fox a warm, soothing feeling every time they touched—especially when they held hands. Her calming thoughts transferred into him through physical contact and caused him to feel stronger in both body and mind. In fact, Fox had never felt as invigorated as he did now.

Slippy had gone ahead of them and was already on the second level scouring the area for a ship that he thought would suit him, and he didn't have to look for very long until he found what he was looking for. At the top of the mesh staircase, Fox looked on ahead and saw the squatty mechanic running his eyes across a wedge-shaped attacker that looked like it could hold several more bombs than an Arwing could. In addition to its large onboard ordnance, it also sported thick armor that equipped it for grueling strike operations that required flying through heavy gunfire to accomplish an objective. The heavy plating would also be perfect for the times when Slippy would inevitably let his guard down and fall under attack without warning; and the overall air of the ship appealed to him more than any of the others on the second level.

Satisfied with his choice, Slippy happily jogged past Fox and Krystal with a gleam in his eyes and descended the staircase down to the first level to announce his selection. With Falco having already placed his order, he and Slippy were now waiting on the two vulpines to choose their planes. However, they were in no hurry at all. Still hand in hand, Fox and Krystal slowly trudged across the mesh floor, which allowed them to see the fighters on the floor below them through the many holes in its black metallic surface.

"Ah, here it is," Fox satisfactorily remarked, pointing to a newly-finished pre-production Arwing 2. The sleek fighter hearkened back to his days in the Lylat Wars, but the technology behind it was cutting-edge. It would run rings around the current Arwing if the two were to be pitted against each other, and the orange vulpine was already in love with it. It appeared that there was only one in the entire hangar, meaning that Krystal would have to content herself with something else if Fox took it. However, he didn't want to deprive his love of the option to take the Arwing 2, if she so chose. Relinquishing his personal desires, he pointed to the ship and reluctantly asked the cobalt vixen, "Do you want it?"

The Cerinian adorably smiled and gave Fox the most innocent, pure expression he had ever seen from her. "It's all yours, Fox," she sweetly said, placing her paw on the right side of his jaw and feathering his soft, tawny fur. Fox closed his eyes and let his lovely friend continue caressing his face.

"_What would I do without her_?" he thought to himself.

Merely being around Krystal was heavenly; and if anyone were to take her from him, they would have to be prepared to face a mercenary completely devoted to bringing about their complete and utter ruin. Thankfully, he trusted her ability to protect herself more than he ever had before. That she had managed to handle the traumatic airborne skirmish in the skies above Katina was a milestone in her arms-bearing career; because after that, she could no longer even possibly be considered deadweight to the team. She was a fully-fledged member of Star Fox; and after two years of flying with the team, she was able to put more of her focus on trusting her instincts rather than letting her all-too-present thoughts interfere with what needed to be done.

She watched Fox as he climbed into the Arwing 2 and closed the canopy to get a feel for what it would be like to fly it. A faint smile crossed Fox's lips, and Krystal fed off of it, relishing the moment and vicariously enjoying her love's contentment. After a few moments, Fox opened the new Arwing's canopy and hopped out, rejoining Krystal on the second story floor. Deciding that the fighter for her was not on this level or the one below it, the Cerinian led Fox up another flight of stairs to the third and final floor. Only ten fighters rested on the top level, which was reserved for ships of a more 'experimental' nature. This was where the strangest and most unique designs went. Fox almost wondered if he had made his decision to take the Arwing 2 too quickly, because several of the intriguing ships demanded his immediate attention.

In the back corner against the wall was a fighter that practically had Krystal's name written on it. Fox motioned for her to follow him over to it, and she approvingly ran her eyes across the sleek fighter's hull. The ship sported four long, heavily-angled wings in an 'X' pattern, with the cockpit near the back of the ship, as with the Arwing. Twin cannons were mounted in the gaps between the fuselage and the wings, and the weaponry appeared to be very powerful. The four diffusion fins resembled those of the Arwing, but these were larger and more streamlined. Above all else, this ship looked to be _very_ fast. Perhaps that was why it was up here with the oddities that Space Dynamics had produced over the years.

Climbing in was not difficult, and the Cerinian soon found herself comfortably enshrined in the silent cockpit looking out at Fox, who crossed his arms and flipped his bushy tail behind his back. The fighter, codenamed _Seraph_, was elegantly designed on both the inside and out. However, the internal electronics did seem a bit more complicated than those of the Arwing she was familiar with. She decided that it wasn't a huge concern after temporarily switching on the fighter's battery to view the controls and dials that would appear while it was in use. Apart from three extra gauges and two extra switches, it was similar enough to the ship she had become acquainted with.

Taking a quick look behind her, she smiled at the realization that there was a small seat behind the pilot's chair with just enough room for a passenger or a navigator in the event that one was necessary. Her fingers tapped at the large interface screen in front of the _Seraph_'s flight stick before she found the aft release for the canopy and slid it open, motioning for Fox to come and join her. The orange pilot carefully climbed up onto the fighter's angled top wing and awkwardly clambered into the passenger seat behind Krystal. Once he was inside, the vixen shut the metallic canopy over him.

The silence inside the cockpit was profound, and the only thing that could be heard was Fox and Krystal's breathing. It was so quiet, in fact, that Fox thought he could hear the air molecules in the tight space bouncing off of each other.

"Quiet, isn't it?" Krystal remarked, turning around in her seat to look at Fox, who found the tandem passenger seat more comfortable than he had anticipated.

"Very," he replied. "Do you like it? I think it's a great fit for you."

"I don't like it, Fox—I _love_ it," she happily replied, contented with her decision to take the _Seraph_ as her own. The aesthetics and the control layout of the ship were appealing to her, and the addition of a tolerably comfortable passenger seat was icing on the cake. Perhaps when their assistance wasn't required by the Cornerian military, she could use it to take her leader for a well-deserved joyride. Both foxes grew quiet as the light blue dashboard illuminated the front of the cockpit and reflected its artificial light onto the glass canopy above Krystal.

Fox quietly cleared his throat and solemnly posed a question he hoped Krystal would react kindly to. It wasn't necessary for him to ask it, but he wanted to know how she would answer. "Krys, If Cerinia hadn't been destroyed, do you think we still would have met?"

The question caught Krystal off guard, which didn't happen very often. She took a few moments to ponder her answer and then lightly replied, "Yes, Fox. I believe we would have. I would have done anything to find you, because I think we really were meant to be together—just like what your message on Sauria said." She paused and breathed deeply, recollecting the events surrounding her homeworld's demise, before asking Fox why he had proposed that question. Uneasily, the orange vulpine replied, "There's no reason—I was just wondering."

Having decided on their respective fighters, Fox and Krystal slowly climbed from the tandem cockpit of the SFX Seraph and descended the long, winding staircase down to the first floor.


	9. Chapter 9: Candid Conversations

**Chapter 9: Candid Conversations**

Date and Time: April 2, 10 ALW, 11:58 P.M.

A heavy rain poured down on the darkened city-planet of Eledard. For the most part, the city's sidewalks were free from foot traffic; and the bustling urban streets were quieter than usual. The rain, which was now coming down in sheets, had caused meteorologists to post flash flood warnings throughout District 5 of the Magnum-class city; and as a result, the metropolis was much quieter than usual. The numerous criminal gangs that normally prowled the streets around midnight were locked up in their respective safe houses watching the torrential downpour crash down on the darkened city.

Several nearby lampposts had burned out, and no one had bothered to replace the bulbs for fear of being attacked by the criminals in the sleazy district. In the darkness of dimly-lit city, a tall figure doggedly sloshed through the abnormally deep rain puddles that had accumulated in the many cracks of the concrete sidewalk. A nearby lightning strike temporarily illuminated the night sky, revealing the sullen countenance of Wolf O'Donnell.

This was his birthplace, and after his hideout in the Sargasso region was overrun by the Cornerians following the extinction of the Aparoids, it had become his home once again. Panther and Leon were both asleep back in Wolf's rented space at the top of one of the city's nicer apartment complexes, and Wolf had been very careful not to wake them upon exiting the building. They didn't need to know about his dealings or why he had decided to take a long walk through the driving rain, either.

Completely ignoring the "Do not walk" sign above a pedestrian crossing, Wolf marched across the empty intersection of Howell Avenue and 54th street toward a glowing neon light in the distance. For protection from the rain, he wore a wide-brimmed waterproof hat and a knee-length water-resistant black jacket, although it was inevitable that he was still going to have to shake out his fur once he wandered indoors. The neon lettering for the Howell Avenue Tavern became legible, and before long, Wolf found himself in front of the heavy old wooden doors of his favorite local pub.

He eagerly pushed the large door inwards and entered the unusually quiet barroom. Only a few couples were seated in the booths in the corners of the tavern, which served decent-quality food in addition to the spirits it was better known for. Wolf looked around with a confused expression on his mug as he took off his raincoat and hat, flinging the built-up water from them onto the tile floor in the entry area. Usually, midnight was the peak time for business in the pub. It was also the time when all patrons under the age of 18 were forced to leave. Things that took place in the tavern after midnight were sketchy, to say the least.

However, nothing even remotely interesting was going to be happening tonight. Wolf had been the first person to enter the building in more than thirty minutes. Hanging his soaked rain gear on a coat hook provided for him, the lupine walked across the wood floor up to the bar and took a seat. The only other customer at the bar was a badly-overweight rabbit who was obviously drunk.

Wolf loudly muttered, "Ahem!" and slammed his paw down on the bar to attract the attention of the bartender, who he knew was either in the lounge or the kitchen area. Seconds later, a fine-figured she-wolf about Wolf's age wandered out from the kitchen, wearing a tight pink shirt that showed off more of her cleavage than she should have allowed others to see. "Sorry!" she yelled as she ran back to the bar. "What can I get for…" she suddenly realized who she was talking to and drooped her ears out of fear and respect for him. "…You."

Wolf slyly smiled and replied, "The usual." While the cute bartender filled a large mug with Wolf's preferred variety of beer, the mercenary nonchalantly asked her, "How've you been, Kiera?"

The she-wolf placed the frothy mug in front of him and told him somewhat insincerely, "I've been doing alright. I'm guessing you probably came here to talk to me again, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

The bartender sighed and leaned forward closer to Wolf, and it was all he could do to focus on her face instead of looking down the front of her shirt. "What's been on your mind, Wolfie?" she softly asked.

"A whole crapload of bad memories," he disdainfully answered. "Can we talk somewhere else?"

The she-wolf scanned the area for anyone who could have possibly needed a refill or the ticket for their meal, but everyone had already finished and paid. "Sure," she said in response to Wolf's question. "Come to the lounge."

Wolf picked up his mug and followed the shapely bartender through a set of automatic doors, then into an intimate red-painted room with five red cotton chairs and a black leather couch placed against the wall the door was mounted on. A wide one-way glass window on the other side of the room allowed them to look out into the pouring rain outside; and the lighting in the room was dimmed, bathing the room with a faint yellow glow. Kiera shut and locked the door behind them as Wolf dropped onto the couch, being careful not to spill his drink. The she-wolf spun around one of the rounded red chairs and slowly eased herself down into it, pulling her tail around her back and placing it on her lap.

"What's the matter, Wolf?" she caringly asked. Kiera had become a friend of Wolf's shortly after his return to Eledard, when he first discovered the Howell Avenue Tavern and its rough atmosphere that suited him perfectly. Admittedly, he was more interested in the she-wolf's ample breasts than her caring demeanor, but she was beginning to grow on him; and for the first time in his life, he felt like he had someone he could talk to about personal issues that wouldn't be appropriate for conversations with his team.

Wolf lowered his head and angrily muttered, "I feel betrayed, Kiera. I helped my sworn enemy take down those stupid Aparoids, and I risked my life and my team's lives to do it. I don't even know how I made it back here alive, but what I do know is that no one's ever going to mention that if _I _hadn't shown up to help, we'd all be dead. I'll never get the recognition I deserve thanks to that pathetic whelp Fox. He's always been one better than me—always one step ahead. I hate him more every day, and it's killing me."

Kiera lowered her ears and looked at the black carpeted floor. She didn't have a definitive answer for Wolf. Most likely, he would have to find the answer on his own; but she was willing to provide a few suggestions. Looking back up at Wolf sympathetically, she said, "It might be hard to do, but if you can forgive Fox…"

Immediately, Wolf violently shot the idea down. "Not a chance. Move on to the next suggestion."

"Okay, then," Kiera continued, "The only other two options are to either leave the Lylat System and find trouble elsewhere or do something heroic for this system and prove that you're better than people give you credit for."

"I never wanted to be a hero," Wolf gravely replied. "Heroes are disposable. They get old, then they can't measure up anymore; and then they're thrown away and replaced. People forget about their heroes, but a good villain never dies. As I said, heroes are disposable. Villains…" he paused, "…are unforgettable."

Kiera's face took on a sad appearance. She liked Wolf's roguish qualities, but as it was, he was headed down a dark path that could only end in self-destruction. "Wolf," she whimpered, "Please—forgive Fox. He'll forgive you—I know he will. I'm afraid that if you keep going down the road you're on right now, someone could manipulate you and use you to do something more awful than you could ever imagine."

Wolf paused and unhappily mulled over his options. Slowly, he raised his head, looked Kiera in the eyes, and told her, "I'll _never_ forgive Fox. It's too late for that now. Good night, Kiera." Wolf stood up and opened the lounge door, leaving the she-wolf by herself in the red room with his untouched drinking glass on the floor in front of where he had been seated.

"_Good night, Wolf_."

* * *

Night had fallen on Corneria City after a long and beautiful day filled with lovely weather and mild sunshine. Seizing a rare chance to spend some time in the city while they weren't away somewhere else in the Lylat System, the Star Fox team had gone out to eat at a high-class restaurant in downtown Corneria. They had invited Peppy, but his work-related obligations wouldn't allow him to accompany his former wingmates to their dinner.

For hours, Fox, Falco, Slippy, and Krystal sat in their reserved booth and talked about their various adventures and discoveries that had taken place over the last year. Falco had probably imbibed too many drinks over the course of the meal, because he was acting a bit more animated than usual. Even though the large antique wall clock hanging over the wide entrance to the dining area read 10:30, the restaurant would not be closing any time soon.

With the conversation slowly fading, Krystal took a sip of red wine and suggested that they leave and head back to the hotel where Peppy had booked reservations for them. In spite of his strict adherence to the rules of Cornerian military protocol, Peppy was still one of Star Fox's most loyal supporters and was willing to go out of his way to help his friends. Each member of Star Fox had paid for their meal long ago, so leaving the restaurant would not take long.

"I think Krystal's right," Fox agreed, "It's getting late, and we should check into the hotel sometime soon."

"In a hurry for something, Foxie? Can't wait to have some fun with her?"

"Er… um… No, Falco—I just wanted to get settled in. I've heard good things about the hotel," he awkwardly replied.

"Yeah—sure, Fox," Falco facetiously remarked, not believing Fox's improvised excuse.

Trying to avoid looking too over-eager to leave and snuggle up with Krystal in his hotel bed, Fox slid out of the booth and stood up before helping Krystal to her feet and leaving the restaurant with the rest of his team. All dressed in their best clothes, Fox and company nonchalantly made their way to the nearest train station, where they could catch a ride to the hotel they would staying at. Fox could have rented a car while staying in Corneria City, but because the city's train system was so effective, he decided against it in favor of using the high speed monorail instead.

The tram terminal they arrived at was temporarily empty; but within five minutes, a five-car train headed in the direction of the hotel slowed to a stop in front of them and opened its doors. "Ladies first," Fox warmly spoke, placing his paw on Krystal's bare shoulder (she was wearing a strapless black dress) and lightly pushing her into the unoccupied tram car before following suit and taking a seat next to her on the vinyl bench seat in front of the car's wide right window.

Falco and Slippy quickly followed the two foxes in and sat down; and soon, the automated train slowly gained speed until it eventually topped out at its maximum velocity of 200 miles per hour. They watched as the city raced by in a blur, although it hardly felt like they were moving at all from where they were seated. The comfort level in the train was so exceptional that Krystal quickly fell asleep on Fox's shoulder as they traveled to the hotel.

Trying to speak quietly enough so that Krystal wouldn't perceive him, Falco told his leader in the most serious tone of voice he was capable of, "Fox, joking aside, you've got someone really special. You really do, buddy. She's perfect for you."

Fox silently acknowledged his wingman by nodding his head in reply. _"…And that's why I'm so worried."_

"What was that, Fox?"

"Oh… it was nothing, Falco. I'm fine."

The train quietly and very quickly sped through the night on the way to the twin towers of the opulent hotel they would be staying at. Falco peered through the glass strip above them and looked at the full moon above Corneria. The green sphere, named Guila, was where they would be headed the next day to give their new fighters a test run. The moon was the location of several clandestine test grounds, including the Space Dynamics test center they would be visiting.

In addition to the test center, the planet also contained the secret training facility belonging to Corneria's elite ONYX unit, which was on schedule to be deployed four months from now. Whether the unit would actually be ready to fight by the time the war was over was a question that had yet to be answered. In the meantime, though, Star Fox was the only special card that the Cornerian Army was able to play.

In minutes, the train slowly decelerated and stopped at the station near the looming towers of the large and luxurious hotel and resort on the outskirts of the metropolis. Krystal flipped her eyelids open and groggily followed Fox out of the train, holding his paw and trying not to trip over her high heeled shoes. After a short walk to the resort area, all four members of Star Fox wearily stepped through the sliding glass doors of the hotel and walked to the front desk.

Even though they were dressed abnormally compared to the flight-ready gear they usually wore, the female feline receptionist immediately recognized them and said, "Welcome, Star Fox! We have three rooms confirmed for you in the West Tower on the 15th floor. Per your reservations, your rooms have one king bed each."

"Perfect," said Fox.

"Here are your keys to your rooms," the receptionist happily continued, handing Fox the silver metallic cards that would allow them to access their rented suites. "It's already been paid for, so don't worry about it," she continued, "There's a free continental breakfast from 6:30 to 10:00 every morning, and the swimming pools are open from 7:00 A.M. to 11:00 P.M. If there's anything else you need, give us a call. We're open 24/7."

"Thank you, ma'am," Fox politely replied, taking the three room keys and distributing two of them to Falco and Slippy before they all walked to the elevators and pressed the button indicating that they wanted to go up. The elevator took far too long to reach the bottom floor where they stood, but eventually, the twin brass doors slid open and allowed them to enter. The entire elevator assembly was constructed of high-strength glass that allowed a panoramic view of the amazingly tall atrium which reached all the way to the top of the building. Brass trim was stamped everywhere where it could possibly be placed, and the opulent feel of the elevator foreshadowed what their rooms were going to be like. Fox punched the button marked 15, and the elevator shot up very quickly, with its acceleration almost causing the team's knees to buckle. The elevator suddenly stopped, and Falco remarked, "Are we there already? Dang, that was fast."

"No, Falco—this is the fifth floor. Someone probably wants to get on," Fox replied. Star Fox backed up against the curved glass away from the elevator door and waited for the intrusive hotel patron to enter. The brass door opened, and a pretty vixen with dyed-blue fur stepped into the elevator. It was almost obvious that she had painted her fur in imitation of Krystal, and the youthful vixen almost screamed at the sight of her inspiration.

"Oh my goodness! Are you really…?"

"I am," Krystal sweetly replied. "What's your name?"

"Alexis," she replied, "You're such an inspiration to me, Krystal. I've had a really hard life, and whenever I feel like I can't take it anymore, I think of you and everything you've been through. It gives me the will to stay alive."

Krystal was humbled by the younger vixen's narrative. She never thought of herself as a role model for anyone, let alone adolescents. "Come here," she said. The younger blue vixen stepped forward and was shocked when Krystal put her arms around her and hugged her. "Never give up on life," she whispered into Alexis's ear. "There's always something to live for. Sometimes you just have to look really hard to find it."

Eventually, Krystal released her grip on the adolescent; and the naturally blue vixen and the dyed fox simply stared at each other without saying a word. Alexis's eyes looked around the elevator at the rest of the Star Fox team she had heard so much about. They looked out of place wearing their formal attire, but there was no denying that they were the heroic team responsible for protecting Lylat for more than a decade.

She weakly asked, "Can I get your autographs?"

Falco quickly snatched a metallic permanent marker out of his pants pocket and pulled off the cap. He loved being recognized for his work with Star Fox and was always prepared to hand out autographs. "What do you want us to sign?" he asked.

The vixen felt through her pockets for something for them to sign, but the only thing she could find was her leather wallet, which was faded and torn after being used for several years. "This is all I've got on me," she unhappily replied. "Do you think it'll work?"

"We'll make it work," Falco reassured her as the elevator reached the 15th floor and dinged to announce their arrival. All five stepped out of the elevator and into a small alcove where an ice machine and a drinking fountain had been set up as Falco took Alexis's worn wallet and scribbled his signature on the front, making sure that there would be enough room for everyone else to get their autograph in. After the wallet had been signed by Fox, Slippy, and Krystal, the Cerinian returned it to its owner with a smile. The dyed vixen happily walked away, but not before telling Krystal, "Thank you. You're even nicer than I thought you'd be. And by the way—you and Fox make a great couple." With that, the adolescent disappeared down the hall and vanished into her room, never to be seen by them again.

The three rooms Peppy had booked for Star Fox were on the front side of the hotel's West Tower and looked out over a large, beautiful lake with elegant fountains that lit up at spectacularly at night. In the distance beyond the lake, the ocean and the horizon could be seen. This establishment was the most highly rated hotel in the city—and it should have been, considering the heavily inflated price of admission. Peppy was pushing it by booking a week-long stay for Star Fox at the hotel; but it was the least he could do, since Fox was still bitter about not being able to replace the _Great Fox._

Wearily, Fox slid the silver metallic card into room 1512's card slot and opened the door to his room, with Krystal walking in behind him and quietly closing the door. What Fox didn't notice was that she had taken the "Do not disturb" sign off the back of the door and hung it on the front to prevent any unwanted intrusions during the night.

For several minutes, the two vulpine friends admired the nearly-regal beauty of their room, which was meticulously cleaned and contained a rudimentary kitchen, a balcony with a sandstone ledge, and a lavish bathroom that was almost _too_ lavish. The hotel's extravagant rooms were designed to make the occupants feel like royalty for the short time in which they stayed in the building, and Fox was already enraptured by it.

Krystal was enjoying it as well, but her royal bedroom back on Cerinia hadn't been too dissimilar. In fact, the earthen colors the room was decorated with gave the room an ambiance that was eerily similar to that of the palace belonging to the main Cerinian tribe, which Krystal was a part of. However, she did have to concede that the thick beige carpeting in the room was beyond plush.

While Krystal's toes played in the carpet, Fox casually dropped his suitcase next to the king bed that looked supremely comfortable. After kicking off his shoes and expertly tossing his sport coat onto a nearby silver coat hook, he hopped up onto the bed and put his hands behind his head, looking up at the textured ceiling with a satisfied grin on his face. Krystal climbed up next to him and rolled onto her side, looking at Fox with her dreamy aquamarine eyes.

Fox turned to face her, but he couldn't have predicted her next movement; which was to begin unfastening the buttons on his white dress shirt, starting with the top and working her way down until nothing held it together. For a few moments, she rubbed his chest before rolling over and requesting Fox's assistance with the zipper on the back of her dress that she had a difficult time reaching. Fox's heart raced as he pulled down on the small zipper, which loosened the slack on Krystal's dress and enabled her to effortlessly slip out of it.

Now in her minimalistic white underwear, she folded the black dress neatly on the bed and placed it on top of her suitcase before casually walking into the bathroom to care for her teeth and to make sure that any food particles from her dinner were removed before she went to bed. While Krystal attended to her dental hygiene, Fox pulled off his shirt and carelessly folded it before walking through the sliding glass door onto the balcony and looking out over the capital city of the planet he called home.

The city never slept. Car engines and incoming spacecraft could be heard from every direction, and a cool ocean breeze whistled through his fur. This was his favorite time of year, when the trees came into bloom and gifted the world with their ornate beauty after winter had ended. In a few moments, Krystal joined him out on the balcony and put her arm around his shoulder. Fox quietly sighed as the vixen worked her soft fingers into his shoulder blade. A solitary thought solicited his brain, but he immediately jammed it into the dark recesses of his mind before Krystal could interpret it—or so he thought. For a split second, Krystal stopped stroking his shoulder and closed her eyes with a smile before resuming her makeshift massage.

"_Please—marry me, Fox. I want to be yours forever. I want to be the mother of your children. I want to be your everything."_

How badly she wanted to speak those words to him. However, she was still determined to let him make the first move; even though it could take quite a while. In time, the vixen left Fox's side and returned to the luxurious suite, where she pulled the bed sheets forward in preparation for both her and Fox's night of sleep together. Seconds later, she flipped the light switch off.

Fox quickly perceived that the main light in the room had been extinguished, and he turned around to find Krystal lying on her stomach on the bed in the darkened room, her tail happily whisking back and forth in the darkness. Fox smiled at his scantily-clad friend, who grinned in return and slapped the bed, demanding that he join her. Somewhat uncomfortably, he took off his dress pants and sloppily folded them, placing them on the floor next to the bed. It was recommended that he put them up on a hangar to prevent any unwanted wrinkles from developing, but that's what the iron was for.

As Fox climbed into bed, he thought he noticed something different about Krystal. The pale moonlight only illuminated the balcony, leaving the bedroom almost pitch black; but for reasons unknown to him, her eyes were glowing. It was a very faint glow, but it was impossible to ignore. Fox gasped when he saw that the white glyphic prints circling her arms were also faintly shining in the darkness of the room.

He fearfully stuttered, "K…Krystal? I…Is that normal?" in hopes that she could give him a solid explanation. He had grown accustomed to the regal Cerinian's odd talents and abilities, but this was somehow different from those. To his horror, she seemed almost as surprised as him at the recent development as she looked at her arms, eyeing the glyphs which were glowing with a faint shade of dull white.

The only thing she could think of that might have even conceivably explained the phenomenon was the dream she had fallen into eight nights ago. That vision had haunted her ever since. The message for her to come to Iridium couldn't have been any clearer, but she was afraid to comply. She didn't even know where to look for the enigmatic location she believed she had already been to in her dream. More importantly, though, she didn't want to have to encounter _him_ again.

The mere thought of the haunting presence that had explained the history of the Iridium Triangle to her sent chills down her spine. Besides, with her duty to Star Fox and the threat of another Ichtosian attack, there was no chance of her being able to break from the team to search for a planet none of them even knew existed. Wanting to hide her eerily glowing markings from both herself and Fox, she slipped under the sheets and snuggled up to Fox, who almost resisted her touch.

Concerned that the unexplainable circumstances had changed Fox's view of her, she passionately cried, "Fox, please don't be afraid of me!"

Fox slipped his arm under her neck and fondled her shoulder beneath the sheets that came up to their necks. "I'll try, Krystal," he softly replied. "It's just…"

"What, Fox? Please, tell me!"

"Did you ever get the feeling that something huge is about to happen, and you're at the center of it?"

For all Krystal knew, he could have read her mind. She wasn't sure what was going to come about in the near future, but she could feel that it would be something with the potential to alter the universe as they knew it. She felt so afraid and so helpless. She didn't want to be the 'chosen one' that the enigmatic vulpine in her dream had mentioned. All she wanted was to be with Fox and to accompany him on his adventures, wherever they took him. Sadly, it appeared that someone else had other ideas for her future.

"Fox? Will you promise to protect me?" she poignantly asked. The orange vulpine gave no reply. He had already fallen asleep next to her and was completely unresponsive to the question. Frustrated and disappointed, Krystal tried to make herself comfortable in the luxurious bed that was supposed to foster deep, relaxing sleep; but all she could do was stare at the ceiling and fearfully think about what her future held for her. "Why are you doing this to me?" she angrily spoke into the air, trying to keep the noise level of her voice down as not to wake Fox.

"_It is not wise to demand answers about that which you do not understand, Daughter of Cerinia."_

Krystal nearly fainted upon hearing the voice of the stranger she had met in her dream. She looked wide-eyed around the room in a state of panic, trying to find the source of the voice. She quickly came to the realization that it must have originated from inside her own mind. She had never been more afraid in her life, apart from the time Andross had imprisoned her on the Krazoa Palace.

Knowing that sleep would be impossible at this point, she very quietly opened her suitcase and pulled on a pair of black cotton sweat pants and a blue long-sleeved shirt with a white Star Fox emblem that sat over her left breast. Digging through the bottom of the suitcase, she found the white sandals she had packed and slipped them on before snatching the metallic key card off the room's dresser and leaving Fox to rest by himself in the room. She didn't know where she was going to go, but anywhere other than where she was now would be just fine.

The Cerinian's unguided expedition led her out of the hotel and down the street towards the moonlit beach, which she knew would be completely unoccupied. After walking for two miles, she saw a sign that read "Corneria City East Park" and decided to take a stroll through the wooded glen. Various species of Cornerian shrubbery flourished in the natural area, which was surprisingly unspoiled in spite of the advanced, industrialized state of the rest of the metropolis.

A small pond covered with large lily pads glistened in the moonlight as she walked past it. Apart from the various small creatures in the forested area, she was completely alone. Her unaccompanied walk allowed her to reflect on the troublesome thoughts that plagued her mind. Perhaps there was indeed a reason why she alone had survived the fall of Cerinia. Her people had access to rudimentary space travel, so she shouldn't—and couldn't—have been the only one to survive.

However, the truth was that she was the last of them all; and if the mysterious vulpine from her dream was correct—and he most likely was—she was also the last of the most gifted, powerful race to have ever existed. The feeling of responsibility beyond what she was capable of threatened to crush her, and she began to feel panicked.

Before long, the forest ended, and the light beige sands of the Cornerian beach appeared. She calmly removed her sandals and left them at the edge of the forest before stepping out onto the beach, where one person stood looking out into the darkened horizon. She could faintly see that it was a male fox wearing a jacket and a scarf similar to the one Fox used to wear. The green moon directly overhead shone its light on the back of his head, obscuring his muzzle and preventing Krystal from ascertaining his identity from where she stood.

She wondered why anyone would be out here at two in the morning—apart from herself, of course—so she decided to strike up a conversation with the stranger. At the very least, it would take her mind off her internal struggle.

"Hello, sir," she politely spoke, "What are you doing out here at this hour?"

The vulpine turned his head and replied, "I should ask you the same thing." His voice was very vaguely reminiscent of Fox's, albeit deeper and with a slight rasp that exuded supreme confidence. "I'm afraid all of my efforts to protect this planet and this city are going to be wasted," he continued, his voice tinged with sadness. "This is the end of an era, after which there can be no return. This is the last era of heroes. It saddens me to tell you that, but it is the truth. Nothing can be done to change it. In time, heroes will fade away and be replaced by heartless, soulless brutes who will unquestioningly obey any order, no matter how crooked or evil. In my lifetime, I've seen the changes starting to take place; and the writing is already on the wall for Lylat. Andross was only the beginning."

He sighed and turned his attention back to the horizon as a large civilian transport craft roared overhead, its large engines emitting a powerful howling noise as it passed. Krystal looked over the older vulpine's features while he wistfully gazed off into the distance and observed that he was likely in his early forties. His physical build was similar to Fox's, but slightly taller and more muscular. His being gave off a calming, powerful air that quickly put the vixen at ease; and as she looked into his vibrant green eyes, she began to realize who it was she was with. Some would scoff at the idea of ghosts returning to haunt the places where they once lived, but Krystal was not one of them. She had witnessed too many unexplainable supernatural events on Cerinia for her to doubt the existence of the paranormal. "Are you… Fox's father?" she uneasily asked.

"You might say that," the elder vulpine astutely answered. "How'd you guess?"

Krystal replied, "Fox told me so much about you. He said that you were the best father he could have ever hoped for; and he misses you dearly."

The elder fox lowered his head slightly and sadly muttered, "I wish I could be there for him like God intended. I know Fox has had a tough time dealing with my passing; and scars like that don't heal easily." He paused, taking a deep breath and looking to the starry sky above before asking Krystal, "Can you do me a favor?"

"What is it?" she curiously asked, wondering what the apparition would request of her.

"Please don't ever let him think that the best way to protect those he loves is to abandon them. Nothing good ever came from leaving a friend behind. You have more influence in his life than you realize, Krystal. Use it to help him heal."

"Oh—and one more thing…"

The ghost of Star Fox's founder slipped the silver wedding band off his left ring finger and placed it in Krystal's cerulean paw. "That's one half of the puzzle. Yours is with Peppy." After leaving Krystal with his ring, he looked around, almost as if he was expecting something to happen. A powerful gust of wind suddenly whipped up, and the ghost of James McCloud turned to Krystal and solemnly told her, "I have to go now, Krystal. Take care of Fox, and never deny him your love. He deserves someone like you."

With that, he walked down the beach along the edge of the incoming tide until he came to a Mark I Arwing that was parked in the shallow breakers. Without another word, he climbed into the cockpit and soon disappeared into the night sky.


	10. Chapter 10: Training Day

**Chapter 10: Training Day**

Date and Time: April 3, 10 ALW, 10:00 A.M.

The darkness surrounding Fox was stifling in its bleakness. All around him, he could hear the noises of the spacecraft he was onboard along with the various shuffling sounds created by his nearby teammates.

Twenty minutes had passed since the military transport craft had left the Cornerian military installation, but it felt like an eternity. He and everyone else on his team had been blindfolded and ordered to remain silent during the short flight to Corneria's only moon, where they would be testing their new fighters.

Momentarily, Fox felt Krystal rest her delicate paw on his upper thigh and very gently rub it, sending a warm stream of soothing emotions into his body. Knowing that no one would see him do it, Fox returned the favor and caressed the Cerinian in a much more 'sensitive' area. The unexpected touch cased the vixen to exhale heavily; and she affectionately patted Fox's leg again before resting her arm on her lap and keeping her hands to herself for the remainder of the trip.

Soon afterwards, Fox felt the transport begin to descend before it landed harshly on the surface of Corneria's moon Guila. The pilot announced, "You may remove your blindfolds now."

Fox and the rest of the team wasted no time in pulling off the black cloths before looking around and nearly being blinded by the light after being shrouded in complete darkness for almost a half-hour. Falco, who had been seated on the left, was the first to exit the craft, followed by Slippy, Krystal, and finally Fox.

All of them immediately shielded their eyes from the intense sunlight that beat down upon them with an abnormal intensity. The air temperature was a searing 103 degrees; and a hot, dry wind breezed through the area, doing nothing to ease the discomfort of the heat.

"Where are we?" Fox asked the raccoon who had met them earlier and allowed them to select their fighters.

"We're _here_," the Space Dynamics officer replied with an emphasis on 'here'; not giving away the slightest bit of information to the curious vulpine pilot. "Follow me. I'll explain the details inside."

Star Fox followed the raccoon, named Anderson, into the building closest to them. The small, concrete bunker was only fifteen feet tall and contained four rooms. Off to the right of the spartan structure sat the four fighters the team had selected yesterday, and to the left was a grouping of three black fighters that looked very different from standard-issue Cornerian military spacecraft.

The temperature inside the base was much cooler than it was outside, and the black lighting inside the base was in stark contrast to the blinding sunlight that pervaded the small moon's ecosystem. The dark lights bathed the four pilots in a strange hue of dark blue, and anything even remotely close to a shade of white was exemplified by the unusual lighting.

Krystal giggled at Fox upon observing his white teeth glowing brightly in the darkness before she looked down at her cut-off jacket that had no sleeves and was too short to completely cover her midriff. The black lighting in the room caused her exposed white fur around her neckline to shine like a spotlight, and the vixen felt the need to pull up on the jacket's zipper and conceal her chest area more adequately. The tribal glyphs on her arms also stood out prominently and quickly brought back the unpleasant memories of the night before.

The raccoon supervising the team led them into a small room with a large screen on its main wall. Peppy was already in the room waiting for them. Four chairs had been set up for the team members, and each one of them quickly and gratefully took a seat. Anderson quickly launched into an explanation of their objective.

"Welcome to the Military Proving Grounds, Star Fox. This is where we put off of our experimental vehicles to the test before they see any combat. Today, you will be testing your new fighters on our pylon course."

Falco immediately smiled. He already liked the direction this was heading in.

Anderson continued, "The course spans a distance of 200 kilometers, which sounds like a lot. However, it goes by surprisingly fast at the speeds which your fighters are capable of attaining. In addition to racing against the clock and weaving through the pylons provided for you, you will also have to take down several simulated air and ground targets along the way. To make things even more interesting, there is a 50-kilometer stretch of nothing but air on the back part of the course. The layout is also mirrored, meaning that two of you can run at the same time without interfering with one another."

The raccoon paused and picked up a small remote, which turned on the television screen and brought up a paused video. "This is the example run we show to everyone who's about to run the course. Pay close attention, team."

The four pilots eagerly fixed their eyes on the screen, which played a pre-recorded video taken by a dash-mounted camera. The Cornerian spacecraft being used as an example was skillfully maneuvered through the quickly-approaching pylons while tactfully eliminating the holographic blimp targets that appeared in front of it as it raced towards its destination.

The pilot was forced to slow dramatically for the air-to-ground portion of the trial in order to accurately hit the large numbers of dummy targets clustered together on the ground. Following the penultimate part of the test, the fighter accelerated to its maximum speed on the wide open stretch of nothingness on the way back to the starting line and weaved through several more pylons before ending the run back where it had started.

Slippy was already sweating after viewing the video previewing what he himself was about to experience, while Falco was itching to leave the room and tackle the course in his new fighter. "We can send two of you out at one time," Anderson explained, tossing the remote into the air and deftly catching it. Who'd like to go first?"

Falco immediately raised his wing and shouted, "Me!"

"Alright, then. You're first, Mr. Lombardi. Who wants to fly the mirrored course against him?"

"I'll do it," Krystal answered with a smile and a wink. Fox chuckled at her nerve as both of them stood up and exited the room. Following their departure, Anderson synced up the television screen to display the live feeds from both of their fighters' dash cameras. In roughly two minutes, Fox, Slippy, and Peppy watched as Krystal and Falco launched their fighters and proceeded onto the start of the course, which was marked by two yellow pylons. The raccoon picked up a microphone off the left wall and spoke into it, "Start in 3…2…1… Go!"

Both pilots gunned their respective ships' thrusters and took off down the long, airborne course. A point indicator on the bottom right portion of the screen showed where Falco and Krystal were in relation to each other's score, which was measured in time. Missing pylons or failing to destroy air and ground targets would add precious time to the total, which was expected to fall well below the six minute mark.

Fox asked Anderson, "What's the record for this course?" and was promptly pointed in the direction of a black electronic board with white lettering that read "100 K/M Course—Top 5 Times." Below it was a list of the five fastest times ever recorded on the test course; along with the names of the pilots, the date on which they performed the run, and the type of fighter used for each attempt.

_1. J. McCloud, Arwing Mk. 1, 5:19.406, Feb. 25, 4 BLW_

2. S.M. Farris, M1-S, 5:20.994, Oct. 4, 1 BLW

_3. F. Phoenix, Arwing 2 Prototype, 5:22.352, Jan. 2, 10 ALW_

_4. Lambda 4 "Bruno," OSF Scimitar, 5:26.771, Aug. 17, 2 ALW_

_5. M. Lynx, Arwing Interceptor, 5:27.080, Sep. 21, 4 ALW_

Fox clenched his lip at the sight of his father's name at the top of the record board and feverishly resisted the urge to cry. Merely seeing his name was enough to bring back all the memories Fox had shared with him. He suddenly felt painfully guilty for even being here in the first place, because he had a realistic chance at dethroning his deceased father; and he felt that beating his record time would be disrespectful to his legacy.

Seeing the late Fara Phoenix's name two spaces below his father did nothing to improve his mood. The fennec had done so much to craft him into the pilot he was today; and without her patient, yet firm instructions back at the Cornerian Flight Academy; Fox may not have become the hero he was widely regarded as.

Even though she was only two years older than him, she was the perfect instructor for the young and headstrong vulpine cadet, who quickly took a liking to her and strongly considered the possibility of dating the sandy-furred fennec. Now, she was gone forever, along with his father, his mother, and the many other deceased individuals who had helped to shape his life.

Some of them died of old age; some died in the Lylat Wars; and others were killed by the Aparoids during the most devastating attack on the Lylat System to date. However, regardless of the way they shuffled off life's mortal coil; each and every one of them had left a permanent scar and a memory on the mind and heart of Fox McCloud.

Slippy noticed his friend and leader's downcast expression and asked, "What's wrong, Fox?"

Fox slowly lifted his eyes and faced Slippy. A solitary tear attempted to escape from his eye, but he forced it back and replied, "I don't think I can do this, pal. It wouldn't feel right if I beat my father's record. I feel like it should stay where it is now out of respect for him."

Peppy stepped out of the corner and stood face to face with Fox. Placing both paws on the saddened vulpine's shoulders, he emotionally said, "Fox, your father would want you to beat him. He always wanted to see you become even more of a hero than he was—and I believe that you already have. Go for it, Fox. Make your father proud."

"Okay, Peppy," Fox solemnly replied, taking his seat next to Slippy and watching the dash cameras of his other two wingmen. The course had only just begun, but already, Falco had pulled out a significant lead over Krystal, who was flying as quickly as her highly-trained Cerinian reflexes would allow her to.

Natural talent was no match for finely-honed skill, however; and the blue avian's S-20 Interceptor continued to pull ahead. Even through the screen, it was clear that Falco was on the edge of his seat and teetering on the brink of losing control of his fighter. Slippy gasped aloud as Falco almost collided with one of the pylons he was supposed to maneuver around before he gunned down three of the holographic blimp targets provided for him, almost as if nothing had happened.

Anderson pointed out that at the rate Falco was going, he would have a very good chance of breaking James McCloud's old record. The only concern was the long, open straightaway near the end of the course; because the S-20 Falco was piloting was actually slower in a straight line than the Arwing James had used. This was due in part to the experimental craft's emphasis on maneuverability; and because of this, the ship's in-atmosphere aerodynamics were unexceptional.

On the other hand, Krystal's impossibly-fast Seraph would likely be able to make up large amounts of ground over the long expanse of wide open sky. The vixen was trying her best to keep up with the ace pilot, but there was very little she could do to avoid falling farther behind. She was flying precisely and prudently, but Falco was putting everything he had into completing the course as quickly as he possibly could.

Then, it happened. The avian completely lost control of his touchy fighter and spun out of control, missing a pylon and wasting several valuable seconds reorienting himself with his surroundings. Following the incident, he found himself unable to pilot the S-20 at the same level for the remainder of the course. His objective switched from completing the course as quickly as possible to merely trying to complete the course—period.

"He's not going to beat the record after that," Anderson commented.

Krystal still lagged significantly as Falco moved onto the air-to-ground part of the course, where a slew of holographic dummy targets shaped like panels had been set up on the ground. This would be particularly challenging, because the S-20 became unnervingly skittish at the low speeds that would be necessary to complete this part of the test.

Fighting to wrench control back from his temperamental spacecraft, Falco managed to complete the ground attack challenge while only missing two targets. Anderson pointed out to Fox and Slippy that hitting every target was nearly impossible; which meant that even though Falco hadn't had a perfect run, it was still perfectly acceptable.

While Falco moved onto the long straight back to the finish, Krystal entered the air-to-ground area and slowly cleared out most of her targets, missing three of the holographic panels in the process. Meanwhile, Falco was pushing the S-20 as hard as he could. Unfortunately for him, the ship's high in-atmosphere drag coefficient was holding him back, and he angrily flopped back in his pilot's seat and almost carelessly held onto the flight stick while resting his head on his unoccupied wing. It simply wasn't going to go any faster.

However, the avian was still far ahead of the Cerinian, who had just completed the air-to-ground section and was now in the clear. Krystal shoved her throttle lever all the way forward, causing the sleek Seraph to quickly gain speed. The way it accelerated was uncannily smooth and nondramatic; but the speeds it attained were anything but. The ship's digital speedometer indicated a velocity of 3,023 miles per hour, and the ground below seemed to become almost a faint blur to her eyes.

A dot far ahead of her slowly became visible on her radar, and she realized that she had managed to catch up with Falco, who had maxed out at a much lower terminal velocity. In a very short period of time, the SFX Seraph rocketed past Falco's ship and took the lead from him.

This incensed Falco. He had no disrespect for Krystal, but he would _not _be beaten by her. Furiously, he sat up in his seat and prepared for the final set of pylons ahead of him. If he did it just right, he knew he would be able to catch Krystal and pass her for the 'win,' even though this was not strictly a competition. The last grouping of red pylons soon appeared, and the ace pilot once again pushed the S-20 to its limits in a desperate attempt to catch Krystal, who had slowed significantly to maneuver through the pylons.

He forced himself to concentrate even more than he had before, and his passes began to come increasingly close to the vertical posts he was maneuvering around. As he skillfully pirouetted his S-20 around the final set of pylons, he saw Krystal beginning to enter the final grouping of the thin obstacles on the mirrored course across from his.

Now clear of all obstructions, Falco punched the throttle and sailed through the yellow posts that marked the start/finish line. He had won. The avian took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off his forehead before turning around and heading back to the outpost where Fox and Slippy were waiting. Four seconds later, Krystal finished the course and followed him back to the landing area, where Falco lowered his S-20 into its landing position.

The Cerinian carefully landed her Seraph between Falco's S-20 and Slippy's attacker, which he had nicknamed the "Bullfrog." While climbing out of the cockpit, she was quickly approached by the blue avian, who was still sweating profusely after nearly being beaten by the supposedly-inferior female pilot.

"Man, you had me scared to death, Krystal!" he exclaimed, wiping more beads of sweat off of his head with the back of his indigo wing.

"Afraid to lose to a girl?" she tauntingly replied.

"No… it's just... I've only been in that position once. Let's just say that I'd like to keep it that way," he wearily explained.

The two pilots walked back into the concrete outpost, where they were greeted and congratulated by Fox, Slippy, and Peppy. Amidst the commotion, Anderson announced Falco and Krystal's times, which were adjusted to compensate for the targets and pylons they had missed along the way. "Here are the results!" he yelled. "Falco, you completed the course in 5:23.781. That puts you in fourth place on our all-time list. Good job. I've never seen anyone fly the S-20 like that."

"Well, thanks," he sourly replied, unhappy that he had only managed to score fourth place.

"Krystal," Anderson continued, "You completed the course in 5:25.001, and you just barely edged out Lambda 4 for the new fifth place. Not bad."

Krystal nodded and took the seat next to where Fox had been watching their friendly competition as he and Slippy left the building and walked to their fighters. The challenge was almost a joke for Slippy. In addition to his meager pilot skills, his attacker was not designed for maneuverability and would have absolutely no chance of breaking any records. The real question was whether Fox could beat his father's record-setting time.

Falco had come within several seconds of James's run, but his was saddled with a costly time penalty for missing a pylon. To outdo his father, Fox would need a near-perfect run. As he climbed into his fighter and took a deep breath, he heard Slippy tell him, "Good luck, Fox! Make your dad proud out there!" Fox breathed deeply again and looked out over the flat expanse of concrete and grassland in front of him. The yellow pylons of the start/finish line were barely visible in the distance.

"This one's for you, Dad," he muttered as he closed his canopy, fired the Arwing 2's engines, and ascended into the balmy air of Corneria's moon.

Anderson's countdown, followed momentarily by the word "Go," resounded through Fox's pilot headset. His eyes narrowed, and his pulse increased. Adrenaline began to pump through him, and every movement he made seemed to be exacerbated by the combination of nerves and epinephrine. The red pylons flew past him as he weaved in and out of the aerial slalom, taking the airborne curves with aplomb.

Slippy was far behind him, but Fox wasn't concerned about him at the moment. At best, this was a joyride for the amphibian. Star Fox's leader continued to race through the course, gunning down each and every one of the holographic balloons that blocked his path. So far, so good. He had now completed the air-to-air portion of the test and was entering the ground attack section.

He slowed his Arwing 2 and dropped altitude, vaporizing the light blue targets that lay scattered across the ground without missing a single one. The course was halfway done, and his timer read three minutes and thirty seconds. It was going to be very, very close. Clearing the air-to-ground part of the course, he forcefully pushed the throttle lever all the way forward and accelerated the streamlined Arwing 2 to its maximum in-air speed.

Fox wondered where he would be right now if he had been at the helm of Krystal's Seraph. The experimental tandem-seat craft was not as maneuverable as the Arwing 2, but it was much quicker in a straight line. Right now, Fox needed that extra speed. The maximum velocity of the Arwing 2 was only marginally quicker than that of the original Arwing. The real improvements to the craft were in its increased ease of use and its armor.

Fox kept a close eye on the clock that never stopped or relented from its requisite duty to keep moving forward as he watched the numbers continue to increase. His heart rate became even more elevated, and he began to feel like he was flying through a tunnel. The final group of pylons came into view. Just before he came upon them, he mumbled to himself, "Trust your instincts."

With his heart pounding in his chest and a new record on the line, Fox nervously maneuvered the Arwing 2 through the last of the pylons and gunned the throttle to reach the yellow posts of the finish line. And just like that, it was over. The onboard clock stopped as he crossed the invisible line marking the beginning and end of the course. Fox glanced down and read his time with conflicting emotions of triumph and sadness engraved upon his persona.

One tear dropped from his eye onto the electronic readout of the Arwing 2 at the realization that he had eclipsed his father's record time and stamped his name on the leaderboard as the fastest pilot to have ever run the Military Proving Grounds' test loop. He wasn't sure why that tear had fallen, or why several others were quickly dropping from his eyes and joining it on his holographic dash readout. The simultaneous euphoric high from setting the record, combined with his nostalgia for his father had completely overwhelmed him; and the wave of emotion manifested itself in tears because there was no other way in which it could escape. With his task complete, Fox returned to the bunker and tried to maintain a straight face as he walked inside the dimly-lit building.

The first voice he heard after setting foot inside the bunker was Peppy's. "Good going, Fox," The old hare warmly spoke, understanding how Fox must have felt inside without actually knowing.

"Thanks, Peppy," Fox emotionally replied. He turned his head and looked at the black leaderboard, which changed before his eyes to display him as the new number one.

**"****_1. F. McCloud, Arwing 2, 5:18.989, Apr. 3, 10 ALW"_**

"I take it you like the Arwing 2," Anderson jokingly observed.

"Of course. Thanks for letting me have it," he replied before he corrected himself and said, "Well—I guess I should be thanking Peppy for that."

"Not a problem, Fox," said Peppy good-naturedly. Let's get you all back to Corneria. I'm afraid tomorrow won't be as kind as today."

They all knew what Peppy meant by saying that. Tomorrow was the day of the memorial service for Fara Phoenix.

* * *

_Three hours later…_

Beltino Toad stood in front of a computer readout in his lab on Corneria. For the last week, he had been studying the core of the Aparoid virus that had devastated the Lylat System just under a year ago. The Aparoid Queen was gone, but the virus was not limited to that being. The bug had been neutralized, and an antidote for _Aparoidedation_, as they called it, was publically available.

Still, the losses from the Aparoid attacks on Corneria numbered in the millions. It was the most devastating attack in Lylat's history, and it would leave an indelible stain on the generation that lived through it. The adroit Toad scanned through the various menus on his screen before expanding the view of the virus's core with his fingers. The computer system automatically exploded the image before him, making it easier for him to observe the virus's inner workings.

Seeing the group of main cells, Beltino double-pressed the screen and zoomed in farther. He was after the genetic key that composed the disease. Not surprisingly, the virus seemed more closely related to a machine than a living organism. Finally, Beltino managed to isolate the nucleus. He stood in shock at what he found—instead of finding genetic material that could be normally analyzed; he discovered a large number of strange symbols which filled the screen. He decided to leave the system as it was and find someone else who he could relay the strange discovery to.

Ten minutes later, he returned to his lab with General Graves and Lieutenant General Peppy Hare in tow. "This is what I found while looking at the Aparoid virus, gentlemen," he said, leading the two high officers to the screen. Peppy tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at the sight of the strange hieroglyphic print, but Graves simply stopped cold. He looked like a deer about to be hit by a semi truck. He said nothing, but simply stared at the screen. This was not good at all.

"Oh s-t."

"What's the matter, General? Have you seen these before?" Peppy asked, still examining the strange markings for himself. "I dare say that these look very similar to the markings on Krystal's arms. These are more complex, though."

"Please enlighten me, Lieutenant General," said Graves, "I've only seen Krystal once, and she was wearing a full bodysuit. Are you suggesting that she was somehow related to the Aparoids?"

"Not her personally, but possibly someone like her," Peppy explained. "Let me find a picture of her where you can see her arms." The old hare flipped through the various pictures on his smartphone until he came to a picture from two years ago. It had been taken immediately after Krystal had boarded the _Great Fox_ while they were in orbit above Sauria. The high-resolution photograph showed Krystal standing next to Fox, wearing her tribal clothing. All of her tattoos were clearly visible from the angle at which the photo was shot.

"Looks like someone got lost on the way to the strip club," Graves sourly commented.

Peppy laughed at Graves's remark. "Well… It does look like that, doesn't it? Anyway, you can clearly see the markings on her arms. There's an uncanny similarity between hers and the ones on this screen. Did you say that you're familiar with these, General?"

"I was just about to get to that. Normally, this information is beyond classified; but you two are qualified to hear it. About thirty years ago, the original ONYX battalion was sent to a planet in the Iridium Cluster to clear out an advanced civilization that posed a significant threat to us. This was their language."

Peppy and Beltino's jaws both dropped. "Are you suggesting that the Aparoids were their form of revenge on us, General?" the frog incredulously asked.

"Yes, Dr. Toad, I am suggesting that," Graves replied.

"It all finally makes sense," Peppy mumbled, now concerned about a possible problem in the future. "Those Aparoids were too damn strange to have been a native species. He paused and anxiously scratched his ear. "What do you suggest we do, General? If the Ichtosians repeat their attacks, we won't be able to do anything about this 'Aparoid Creator' if he still exists."

"We have no choice but to repel the Ichtosians first. They are the immediate threat here," said Graves. "Once they are no longer a danger to the peace, we can look into this more readily. Currently, the Cornerian Defense Forces are on high alert for any future attacks. We've stationed additional forces on Katina and Corneria; and we have scouts checking the perimeters of the Lylat System for any intrusions. If those buzzards come back, we'll know about them before they can do anything about it."

"Understood, General. Permission to leave, sir."

"Permission granted, Lieutenant General Hare."


	11. Chapter 11: Farewell, Phoenix

**Chapter 11: Farewell, Phoenix**

Date and Time: April 4, 10 ALW, 6:07 A.M.

The sun had yet to rise over the horizon of the Cornerian East Ocean, and most of the city remained asleep during the early hours of the quiet Saturday morning. The cool dawn air offered an elegant prelude to the warm, temperate weather that had been forecasted for the rest of the day. Wearing a snug white v-neck shirt and a pair of khaki shorts, Krystal slowly ambled down the white city sidewalk until she came to a small, vintage-style diner, where Peppy was waiting for her.

The night before, she had contacted the Lieutenant General and requested that he meet with her before Fox could wake up and realize she had left the hotel. Krystal wished to keep her reunion with her former team member a secret to Fox. Her meeting with the ghost of James McCloud and his words of instruction to her still remained fresh in her mind, especially "_Take care of Fox, and never deny him your love_." The Cerinian vixen pushed open the chrome front door to the diner and walked inside. Peppy was seated at a booth for two up against the front side of the building next to one of the building's large windows.

"Good morning, Krystal," he cordially said as the vixen slid into the seat across from him. "What's been on your mind? Is it Fox?"

Krystal looked out the window temporarily and contemplated her choice of words. She wasn't sure that Peppy would believe her if she were to explain that she had personally met James McCloud more than a decade after he had died. "I don't know how to say this, Peppy," she timidly spoke, returning her gaze to meet Peppy's eyes. "I met Fox's father two nights ago, and he gave me this." Krystal removed James's wedding band from her pocket and placed it on the table, much to Peppy's surprise and shock.

"It can't be!" he exclaimed, picking up the silver ring and examining it. Despite the sheer improbability of it actually being James McCloud's wedding ring, there was no evidence to refute Krystal's claim. While the hare unbelievingly stared at the silver band which he held between his thumb and index finger, the vixen leaned forward and simply asked him, "Did you bring what I asked for?"

"I did," Peppy replied, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out the small, delicate diamond ring that formerly belonged to Fox's mother Vixy. "Fox doesn't know that I still have this," the hare continued, "He would cry his eyes out if he saw it. He misses his mother just as much as his father. I knew her when she was alive, and I can tell you that she was a good woman. Fox couldn't have asked for a more loving mother. She will forever be missed."

"How did she die?" Krystal asked.

"Fox hasn't told you yet?" Peppy quizzically replied.

"No—he never went into detail about it. All he ever said about her was that she passed away when he was young."

"I'll explain it," said Peppy gravely. "Fifteen years ago, Andross took an interest in her. As his mental condition began to get worse, he decided that in order to gain access to her love, he would have to kill Fox's father first. To do that, he rigged James's car with a bomb that would detonate when the ignition key was turned. As luck would have it, Vixy's car wouldn't start the morning after he planted the bomb. Being the good husband that he was, James allowed his wife to use his car for the day. She stepped in, turned the key, and was immediately killed. Andross was banished to Venom not too long after that. You know the rest of the story."

The Cerinian sadly looked down at the small menu in front of her and bitterly frowned. "That's horrible," she whimpered. "How did Andross become like that?"

Peppy replied, "From the very beginning, Andross was a selfish, arrogant man. He didn't care about anyone other than himself. While brilliant, he had major character flaws that would show up later. Looking back, General Pepper should have executed him. At the time, though, Andross was a well-known public figure; and Pepper didn't want to look like the enemy by killing him. He wrongly assumed that banishing Andross to Venom would result in his death while allowing us to maintain our innocence. That was a costly mistake, but we learned from it. The next time someone like him comes along, we will give them no quarter."

A large female badger working as a waitress approached the small table Peppy and Krystal were seated at and asked the Cerinian, "What can I get for you, hon?"

"I'll have a decaf coffee with cream, please," she casually replied.

"I'll have that right out for you, sweetheart," the waitress kindly spoke before turning to Peppy and asking, "…And what would you like, sir?"

"I'll have the same thing, but not decaf," the Lieutenant General answered with a smile. He needed the caffeine after the short night of sleep he had gotten the night before.

The waitress left the table and returned to the kitchen as Krystal decided to press on with the primary intent of the meeting with her elderly friend. "Peppy, I've got something else on my mind. Can I be candid with you?"

"Sure thing, Krystal. What's been dogging you?"

"I've been having… well… dreams—sexual dreams about Fox," she uncomfortably explained. "I'm so torn, Peppy. I want him so badly, but I want to respect my peoples' traditions and keep myself pure until he commits to taking me as his wife."

Peppy raised his paw and stroked his mustache. He could understand how she felt, because just weeks earlier, Fox had come to him with the same predicament. Peppy had promised to keep Fox's secret from Krystal, but the aged hare knew that it would be advantageous for the Cerinian to know about her closest friend's deepest feelings for her. The Lieutenant General leaned forward and quietly said, "I promised Fox that I wouldn't tell you about this, but he's going through the exact same things you are. He's actually very close to proposing to you. The only thing he has to do is to buy you a ring and think of a perfect way to ask the question. He's _that_ close. He loves you more than he'll ever show—and more than that, he cares so much about you that he would die in your place if it was necessary."

Krystal's eyes opened wide, and she smiled for the first time since setting foot in the diner. "Really?" she enthusiastically spoke, "He feels the same way about me?"

"Absolutely."

The Cerinian lightly bit at the claw on her index finger while pondering her next question. Soon enough, the waitress returned and brought two cups of coffee to the two denizens of the table. Krystal and Peppy thanked her and cautiously sipped at their blazing hot beverages, which radiated thin vapors of steam.

Putting her coffee cup down, she asked, "Without looking too desperate, what can I do to convince him that I'll say 'yes' if he asks me to marry him?"

"I think you said it perfectly," Peppy replied, taking another sip of his coffee. "Don't go overboard on this, but I think you should do something romantic for him that he wouldn't expect."

Krystal tilted her head curiously and answered, "I'll give it try. I've got an idea that I'm not really comfortable with, but I think it might work. I know that Fox will definitely love it—that's for sure."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I'm not telling you that, you naughty old man!" she laughed, uneasily sifting through her hair like she usually did when she felt uncomfortable with her surroundings.

"Well, it never hurt to ask," Peppy replied with a chuckle and a twinkle in his eyes.

Krystal looked down at her watch and realized that she needed to be heading back to the hotel to make sure she was able to slip back into bed before Fox woke up and realized she was gone. "Can you pay for me, Peppy? I really need to get going," she pleaded.

"Not a problem, Krystal. Remember, the memorial service is at 2:00 this afternoon in the Hopkins Memorial Hall on 42nd street. I know you never met Fara Phoenix, but please try to be respectful to everyone there. She meant a lot to them."

"I will, Peppy," she dutifully answered. "I'll see you there."

Krystal quickly hailed a cab and returned to the hotel, paying the driver and sprinting to the East Tower's elevator before pressing the 'up' arrow. Even though the elevator ride was very swift, it still felt much too slow to Krystal, who was in a hurry to return to her room. It was now 7:03, and Fox was guaranteed to be awake by 7:30. She had to hurry before he began to stir. The elevator reached the 15th floor, and the vixen quickly pulled the metallic key card out of her purse and ran to her room as quickly and quietly as her sandaled feet would allow her to.

She slowly and very cautiously slid the card into the door slot, opening it with a slight clicking sound. Fox was still asleep in bed, but with the sun quickly rising over the horizon through the opened blinds; it wouldn't be long before he would awaken. With the utmost care, Krystal slid out of her sandals and tiptoed over to the room's nightstand, where she placed Vixy's wedding ring next to the alarm clock where Fox was sure to see it. Trying to avoid making too much noise, she very carefully maneuvered out of her clothes and slid them under the mattress before gingerly climbing back into bed with Fox.

The orange vulpine breathed deeply as the Cerinian shuffled over next to him and tried to feign being asleep. Soon, Fox's eyelids fluttered open, and he looked to his left in time to see Krystal open her sea-green eyes and innocently smile back at him.

"Good morning, Fox," she sweetly said.

"Good morning, Krystal," Fox replied, placing a short, chaste kiss on her lips and eliciting a satisfied sigh from the Cerinian, who rolled out of bed and stretched in an unintentionally provocative manner that put Fox's hormones on edge. Immediately killing off the unclean thoughts that had entered his mind, he opened his room's dresser and removed a clean set of clothes for the day. He knew that he would have to change back into a suit and tie for Fara Phoenix's memorial service; but for now, he wanted something he could be comfortable in. Still not quite comfortable with changing in front of Krystal, Fox took his casual attire into the bathroom and dressed himself there, out of the sight of the Cerinian, who flopped back onto the unmade bed and switched on the television that hung on the wall opposite her.

The news channel's main story detailed the recent positioning of additional defense forces in strategic areas of the Lylat System in order to detect and repel any future Ichtosian attacks. After the Cornerian victory at Katina, the Ichtosians had become very quiet and had not ventured back into the Lylat System again. Still, General Graves and the rest of the chain of command were convinced that the Supreme Commander and his staff had something momentous planned for a counter-strike against the Cornerians.

The news broadcast prominently displayed a photograph of the Supreme Commander. At that moment, Fox exited the bathroom and pried his eyes off the underwear-clad figure of Krystal with great difficulty before looking at the television screen and seeing his new enemy for the first time. Instead of angst towards the instigator of the new war in Lylat, he was filled with reverent awe for the dark-furred vulpine leader, who was pictured standing in the middle of a public square with his arms crossed. He wore a black trench coat, gray tuxedo pants with black trimmings, and a deep blue scarf that was wrapped around his neck in a way that called to mind the wooly apparel both he and his father used to wear.

Objectively, Krystal commented, "He looks a bit like you, Fox."

Fox grimaced and replied, "I wish he didn't. I don't want anything to do with him."

The news broadcast continued, and the next portion of the program revealed what he had told the Cornerian Prime Minister and the highest officers of the military.

"_The time has finally come to tear down the bureaucracy that was once the glorious Republic of Corneria. The atrocities they have committed can no longer remain unpunished, and their lies and deception must be brought out for all to see. We must liberate our brothers and sisters on Corneria from the vile clutches of their corrupt politicians and military leaders who will stop at nothing to superimpose their wills upon the people._"

Fox furiously swung his fist in a mock punch directed at the depiction of the Ichtosian Supreme Commander on the screen; but following his angry outburst, he pondered what the dark fox had said. Even if it was merely propaganda, what if some of it was true? Fox couldn't deny the feeling that, at least in part, the Supreme Commander was almost justified in declaring war on Corneria. 'Almost' was the operative word, however. Fox had no sympathy for the tyrant who had sealed the fate of Fichina's brave settlers and was determined to bring the Cornerian Federation to its knees.

Turning off the television after seeing all that she cared to view, Krystal slowly yawned and reclined on the mattress, letting her limbs hang limp wherever they chose. Fox came to her side and playfully tickled her belly button, causing her to laugh and thrash around uncontrollably on the bed. The vixen quickly sat up with a smile of her face before climbing out of bed and unexpectedly tackling Fox. As he dropped backwards onto the heavily carpeted floor, Krystal fell on top of him and giggled as Fox found himself unable to push the blue Cerinian off of him.

Very soon, he stopped trying to force her off and simply lay there on the floor with the vixen pressing down upon him with her weight. He looked up into her eyes and her soft, loving face; thanking himself for giving her the time of day back on Sauria and rescuing her. The Cerinian lowered her head and placed her lips against Fox's; but this time, it was for much more than a quick peck. Both vulpines sighed and groaned with sheer bliss as they shared in the amorous exchange, which lasted for almost thirty seconds.

"Mmm…" Krystal happily murmured, standing up and licking her lips with delight after the sloppy series of kisses. Fox very slowly sat up on the floor and watched as his love selected a short, white dress from the dresser and slipped into it on the spot. She courteously held out her paw to Fox and helped him to his feet before the two friends wandered out of the room in the direction of the dining area, where a complimentary breakfast had been provided for them.

* * *

Fox and Krystal joined Falco and Slippy for breakfast at the hotel before they all went their separate ways. Krystal dragged Fox to a nearby outlet mall, where they both acquired appropriate swimwear for themselves so they would be able to use the hotel's large swimming pool and spa. Meanwhile, Falco left the hotel area to meet up with his old flame Katt Monroe; and Slippy returned to Star Fox's hangar to tinker with his Bullfrog fighter to make it more maneuverable. The hours ticked by quickly, and soon enough, Star Fox found themselves in the large Hopkins Memorial Hall at the memorial service for Fara Phoenix.

Fox glanced around the large auditorium, which was filled with around two hundred people; many of whom were personally taught by the former fennec flight instructor. His eyes caught a glimpse of his old friend Bill Grey and the feline pilot Miyu Lynx, who he hadn't seen in many years. Peppy sat at the front of the auditorium; and even the retired General Pepper was here, as infirm as he was. They had all gathered to pay tribute to the heroic vixen who had been willing to die for her cause and pay the ultimate sacrifice for the people of Lylat. Fox knew that he needed to give a testimony regarding Fara and her impact on his life and career, but he knew that doing so would be very emotionally difficult for him.

The first person to speak on her behalf was General Graves, who unemotionally addressed the somber audience and said, "Miss Phoenix was a superb pilot and an even more exceptional person. I can say with certainty that she has left an indelible mark on the pilots and marines of the Cornerian Army. She always found a way to brighten up any conversation; but when the events around her called for it, she became a fierce fighter. She will be missed." The eagle stepped down from the raised platform at the front of the room, next to a small picture of the deceased Fennec surrounded by several bouquets of wildflowers.

After the General had seated himself in the front row of the auditorium, Miyu stepped up to the small microphone that had been provided for anyone who wished to elaborate on the late Captain. The lynx, who was roughly Fox's age, had known Fara well and was very sad about her passing. "Fara was the nicest person I've ever met—and that's saying a lot," she sobbed, trying to retain her composure. "It was my pleasure to call her my friend; and I have her to thank for my life. The things she taught me at the Flight Academy saved my life more times than I can count. We'll miss you, girl."

Fox felt a knot in his stomach as the feline left walked back into the audience and took her seat near Bill Grey. He had to say something. He and Fara hadn't spoken in years, but she had meant a lot to him, especially when he was younger. Already feeling emotional, Fox left Krystal's side and uneasily walked to the podium at the front of the auditorium, trying to feign confidence. "I never gave Fara the credit she deserved for teaching me how to fly," Fox sadly related. "I always said that my skills ran in the family, but that's not the whole truth. Really, Fara is a big part of why I am what I am today. I know it never would have worked out, but I wish that I'd have had the guts to tell her how much I loved her when I had the chance." He despondently wrung his eye and finished, "I'm going to miss her like a family member. Rest in peace, Fara."

Wearing a disconsolate expression, he descended the steps leading to the podium and reclaimed his seat next to Krystal, who thoughtfully put one of her arms around his shoulder while lightly massaging his chest. She had never met Fara, but she quickly understood that she held a special place in all of these people's hearts. The little blue vixen hypothetically considered what she would say about Fox if he had died. The mere thought of such a tragedy occurring saddened her, but after hearing Fox's regrets regarding his relationship with Fara; she knew what she had to do. She had to convince Fox to marry her.

Several more people came to the podium after Fox to relate their experiences and memories about the departed fennec vixen; and Fox and his team gloomily watched them speak on the ways Fara had impacted their lives. After the service had ended, Star Fox temporarily stayed in the building to talk with former friends and comrades they had lost contact with or simply hadn't seen in some time. The formalities continued for almost 45 minutes until the mercenaries sadly trudged out of the building into the warm spring sunlight, feeling miserable after the loss of the talented pilot and instructor.

* * *

After a long day that had been brought down by the sadness experienced at the memorial service, Fox and Krystal changed into their swimwear and slowly walked to the bottom floor of the hotel, where the swimming pools and the exercise area could be found. Fox wore a pair of long, red board shorts, while Krystal sported a white halterneck bikini with gold chains taking the place of straps.

The pool area was spectacular; and to their surprise, it was mostly unoccupied as well. A young lupine couple lounged in the spa tub in the back corner of the aquatic area; but apart from them, no one else was present. The area was mostly covered by a lighted roof, but there was a portion of the pool that was left open to the elements. At the moment, the external temperature was 59 degrees, and thin clouds of steam rolled off the surface of the warm, heated pool.

Fox and Krystal strolled through the area, admiring the ornate decorations and appointments that set this hotel and its grounds apart from any other on Corneria. As the two friends stepped out from under the covered area, a light rain began to fall. The small, light water droplets misted on their fur coats without chilling them in the least. Spotting a pair of diving boards, Krystal lightly trotted over to the higher of the two and walked to its edge while Fox stood at the edge of the pool in front of the steps that led down into the water.

With the greatest of ease, the vixen leaned forward and gracefully dove into the pool, leaving scarcely a ripple in her wake. Upon surfacing and catching her breath, she swam in place and beckoned for Fox to come join her. Fox slowly stepped down into the pool and swam over to Krystal, who playfully scratched his nose and then suddenly forced her weight upon him, pushing both of them underwater. To Fox's delight, the Cerinian used the momentary distraction to plant a solid, watery kiss on his muzzle while no one else would be able to see it.

In time, the two vulpines swam into the covered interior area, where they comfortably seated themselves in a shallow corner under the leaves of an ornamental plant that prevented them from being seen by the two lupines in the area. A small, decorative waterfall flowed nearby, and the blue lighting created by the underwater pool lights added a calming element to the artificial body of water.

Fox had no way of telling time as it was, but he knew that he and Krystal had at least another forty minutes to relax and enjoy the pool before it closed. Fox held Krystal on his lap with her head resting on his left shoulder and his arms around her waist. It was clear to him that she was enjoying it every bit as much as he was. With Fox in the calmest and most relaxed state of mind he had been in for months, Krystal posed a question she normally wouldn't ask him.

"Fox, did you ever think about having kits? You know—children of your own?"

Fox mused on the question and then softly answered, "I've been thinking about it recently, and I'd have to say that I think I'm ready for children. I don't know how it would work with Star Fox, but I think it's about time for me to settle down and raise a family. Maybe after this war with Ichtos is over."

"I promise that I'll take good care of them for you, Fox," Krystal reassured him while knowingly baiting him into moving farther into the conversation.

"I know you will, Krystal," Fox soothingly replied. "You would be an excellent mother. Our children would be blessed to have you as a parent."

"_OUR CHILDREN?" _ Fox nervously gulped, realizing that he had probably said too much too soon.

Krystal breathed deeply and smiled as Fox continued to hold her in his arms. "The same goes for you, Fox," she blissfully said. "You'd be a great father—and an even better husband."

At that moment, Fox knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that Krystal wanted him to marry her and take her as his wife. He had always known that she harbored deep feelings for him, but personally hearing her admit that she was interested in a more permanent relationship completely changed the way he viewed her. "_Thank you,_" he muttered under his breath.

"You're welcome, Fox," she whispered in response.

* * *

Seven hours following Fara Phoenix's memorial service, Peppy received the message from General Graves that he had been waiting on for ten days. The elderly general hadn't provided him with much information, but he had told him, "Come to my office ASAP. I may have found our man." The out-of-shape hare walked to the General's office as quickly as he could without winding himself before expectantly opening the door to the room where General Graves was seated. The eagle sat up in his leather office chair with perfect posture and ordered Peppy to close the door and sit down.

"Yes, sir," Peppy replied, complying with the order and closing the door before taking a seat in front of the General's desk.

"Let's cut to the chase," said Graves. "Over the last ten days, I've been looking through the files belonging to soldiers from the Lylat Wars who were either killed in action or had gone missing. One particular fighter wing attracted my attention, however. It was the 62nd fighter squadron lead by Master Sergeant Stephen M. Farris. The last time we ever heard from that unit was when they left for a sortie on Zoness while you and Star Fox were dealing with a bioweapon on Solar. We lost contact with them in Sector Y, and we never found a single trace of them. This, however, is where it gets interesting. Take a look at Sergeant Farris's I.D. picture."

The eagle passed the small photograph to Peppy, who shook his head in disbelief. There was no doubt in his mind that he was looking at a picture of the Supreme Commander of Ichtos. The similarity was indisputable. His fur color, his muzzle shape, and—most importantly—his eyes were all identical to those belonging to the Ichtosian Generalissimo.

"I don't believe it," Peppy grumbled. "What would make him do something like that? He betrayed his own people!"

"I know, Lieutenant General," the avian angrily replied. "Now we can add treason to the list of crimes he's guilty of. However, it doesn't stop there," he continued, pulling out a yellow folder and opening it to find a small report that had been stapled together on the corner. He carefully removed the four-page report and handed it to Peppy, explaining, "Sergeant Farris was orphaned at birth and later adopted by the billionaire owner of Space Dynamics, who had his DNA tested to determine his biological parents. This information shocked me, to say the least. I don't know why no one knows about this yet."

Peppy sifted through the meticulous report, which detailed everything genetically related to the rogue Cornerian sergeant, before his eyes came to rest on the pictures of Farris's immediate ancestors. Peppy froze, unable to believe what he saw.

"Sir! That isn't possible!"


	12. Chapter 12: The Overture Begins

**Chapter 12: The Overture Begins**

Date and Time: April 13, 10 ALW, 8:30 A.M.

With less than a week remaining until the Supreme Commander of Ichtos was scheduled to take delivery of the _I.S.V. Phoenix, _he and the Ichtosians were making preparations for their next attack on the Lylat System. This would be a watershed event in the invasion effort. If he and his army were defeated here, it would spell the end of the assault and leave the Supreme Commander's manifesto uncompleted. Not only that, but it would also damage his reputation on Ichtos. He had never been defeated before, apart from Katina. Victory, on the other hand, would render the majority of the Cornerian Defense Fleet destroyed and useless, allowing him to advance on Corneria and initiate the final stage of the war effort. The conclusion to the recent disturbance was drawing near.

General Blackworth gazed through the bridge windows of the Ichtosian battleship named _Chancellor's Lament _toward the blue sphere of Fortuna. The warship was the only vessel that had been deployed to the planet at the moment. His crew's duty was to repurpose the abandoned Oikonny rebellion base to house and maintain the ships of the Ichtosian Assault Force before they were set to engage the Cornerians either above the planet or over Corneria. No orbital defenses had been established around the planet, which was almost completely unpopulated.

The large black battleship slowly entered the planet's atmosphere and touched down on the planet's surface in a large, open clearing before the soldiers, engineers, and researchers stepped off the ship, followed by Blackworth himself. The tall black lupine immediately directed his men in the direction of the base; and thirty minutes later, they arrived at the abandoned military complex, which was built into the cliff walls above a surging river. It was the perfect place to launch a planetary defense.

However, Blackworth and his crew immediately realized that a lot of work would need to be done before it could effectively station military personnel and vehicles. The Aparoids had significantly damaged the facility during their initial attack on the planet, and many of the base's concrete bays were in very bad disrepair. A small number of Aparoid scraps lingered around the area, which was defined by badly cracked reinforced sheet metal and concrete. A number of vines had started to grow in the abandoned base, as well. Blackworth ignored them and immediately ordered his team of engineers to begin repurposing the base for his leader's incoming forces. He had less than a week to do it, and the Supreme Commander ran a very tight schedule. He would not be kept waiting.

The engineers quickly set to work repairing the facility's hangars and the main landing area, while the scientists gathered up an assortment of Aparoid pieces from the ground nearby and began to run diagnostic sweeps on them. The Aparoids had been almost a non-factor to Ichtos and the Faulian system it belonged to, so this was the researchers' first view of the insect-like species. Only one of them was able to determine what the metallic fragment he held in his paws was. "Aparoids," he explained, "An insect-like species determined to assimilate all life into their Queen's collective hive mind. They were destroyed about a year ago by the Cornerians."

Solar began to sink into the horizon of Fortuna behind the looming jungle canopy as the research team pulled up a computer and began to more closely examine the Aparoid DNA they had managed to retrieve from the large metallic shard. The eyeglass-wearing border collie that headed the research effort intensely peered into the computer screen and curled his lip in confusion and frustration at what he found. The canine had uncovered the exact same thing Beltino Toad had found on Corneria—a series of advanced hieroglyphic characters.

"General!" he yelled in an intellectual voice, motioning for the lupine to view his discovery, "We found something!"

The black wolf was completely uninterested in what his head researcher wished to show him. Angrily, he remarked, "What did you find, Hutchins? Your lost manhood?"

"Uh… no, sir," the head scientist replied with his ego badly bruised. "Please, sir—look at this."

Blackworth unhappily marched over to the research computer and looked at the screen.

"What the f—k?"

"That's what I thought, too," said Hutchins, scratching the underside of his chin. "Should we contact the Supreme Commander?"

"Yes, Hutchins," Blackworth consented. "I'll do it."

The large lupine removed the flatscreen communicator from his utility belt and quickly phoned his Commander back on Ichtos.

The ominous, sober voice of the dictator came through the device's small speakers. "What is it, General Blackworth?"

"Listen, Commander," Blackworth replied, "The research team was examining some scraps from what they called an 'Aparoid,' and they found some kind of alien language embedded in the DNA. We can't make heads or tails of it."

"Send me a sample."

Blackworth quickly took a picture of the glyphic print with his communication device while remaining on the line with his Supreme Commander. Seconds later, he messaged the high-resolution photograph to him.

"Well, that's interesting," said the Supreme Commander with a perplexed voice. "Sorry, but I can't help you. However, I think I know someone who can…"

"Who's that, Commander?"

"Dr. Voltimure Reige of Iridium. I believe that he's familiar with those symbols, and I think I've seen them in his research facility before. I'll patch him in for you."

Blackworth waited expectantly before a 'pop' was audible, followed by the eccentric, upbeat voice of the half-crazed Zharon scientist. "Voltimure here. Who's this?"

"This is General Blackworth of the Ichtosian Army. We've found some writing we've never seen before. It looks like hieroglyphics to me."

"Well, it's hard for me to tell without actually being able to see… oh, never mind—the Commander just sent me a sample." There was silence on the line until Voltimure resumed his conversation and said, "Oh my—this is most singular! What you are looking at is the High Iridian dialect of the Iridium glyphic code."

"The _what_?" Blackworth snapped.

"The Iridium glyphic code," Voltimure tensely repeated. "I haven't seen this in use by anyone other than myself for more than four hundred years."

"Four hundred… What the hell? How are you that old?"

"That's not important now, is it?" the scientist tauntingly answered. "Give me a moment. I can read that encryption. The Iridium language in unique in that it is the only tongue that can function as both a language and a programming code. By reading it, I can completely determine the genetic makeup of any sample."

"_Well, that's interesting_," Blackworth muttered under his breath. The seconds ticked by, and after 45 of the short time units had passed, Blackworth became impatient. "Found anything yet?" he sharply asked.

Heavy breathing became audible from the other end of the line before Voltimure nervously answered in a near-whisper, "My word—she's alive."

"What does that mean?" Blackworth roared before he heard a quiet 'beep' and realized that Reige had hung up on him. Hoping that his leader was still listening in on the conversation, he worriedly asked, "Commander, are you still there? What did he mean by saying that?"

"I'm here, Blackworth," the dictator reassured him. "I have no idea what he meant by that, either. This is an interesting development that I hadn't foreseen. I'm not sure how much I can trust Dr. Reige after this, and I think that after the _Phoenix_ is completed, I'm going to sever all ties with him. He's quickly becoming a liability to us."

"Good idea, Commander," Blackworth agreed.

* * *

Several days later, Star Fox was called into Peppy's office once again. Fox, Falco, Slippy, and Krystal all took their seats across from the Lieutenant Colonel's desk and looked their former team member and mentor in the eyes.

Placing his paws on the desk, Peppy warmly spoke, "Welcome back, team. I have a job for you. General Graves has been trying to authorize the use of a covert special ops unit for this task, but I think it's better suited for you."

"What's the mission?" Fox eagerly asked.

The old hare replied, "Two days ago, one of our scout ships picked up several abnormal electronic frequencies coming from Fortuna. We suspect that the Ichtosians are somehow involved with it. Your job is to land on the planet and investigate the disturbance. You might be out there for days, so pack accordingly. In case the Ichtosians have arrived on the planet and set up a radar array, you'll have to land at least twenty miles from the base and proceed on foot from there. As I said, you might be there for a while. Be very careful, team. There are no known inhabitants on that part of the planet, but always keep your guard up. Places like Fortuna are natural safe havens for dangerous creatures that need a place to hide. You may leave whenever you're ready. I'll send you the coordinates for the base."

"We'll do it, Peppy," Fox confidently replied. While Star Fox's leader was ready to embark on the intriguing venture, Falco was already unhappy with the mission profile. A twenty-mile hike on a reconnaissance mission was not his idea of fun. Slippy wasn't particularly pleased about it, either. Regardless, Star Fox left Peppy's office and returned to their respective hotel rooms, where they packed up everything they thought they would need for the upcoming trip to Fortuna.

An hour later, they met back in their hangar at the Cornerian military base and launched their fighters. Fortuna was not a great distance from Corneria compared to a more distant world such as Macbeth or Titania; and before too long, it came into view. The navigation beacon Peppy had sent them showed the location of the former Oikonny rebellion base on each of their fighters' holographic display screens. Without hesitation, the team descended into the atmosphere of Fortuna and landed their ships on the forest floor twenty-five miles from the base.

The long walk to the fortress soon began; and before long, Falco and Slippy were already complaining. The team had landed on the planet at the Cornerian equivalent of 7:00 P.M., and less than an hour later, it began to grow dark in the forest. Eerie sounds could be heard emanating from the woods, and a dense fog started to rise from the warm, moist ground. The thin, ground-level clouds immediately brought Fox and Krystal's thoughts back to Adalmure, where they had faced the black and blue apparition and caught a glimpse of the largest warship they had ever seen.

With the visibility decreasing by the second, Fox decided to set up camp in a small clearing in the forest. No one on the team had brought a tent with them. Instead, each of them carried a rolled-up sleeping back on their back; with the exception of Krystal, who had planned to squeeze into Fox's sleeping bag with him. Falco and Slippy both quickly rolled out their sleeping bags and slid into their makeshift beds for the night, while Krystal awkwardly shuffled in next to Fox in his blue sleeping bag that was only designed to be used by one person.

The bird and the frog fell asleep very quickly, having been worn out by the seven miles they had already traveled on their way to the base. While they slept deeply in the unfamiliar surroundings, Fox could feel Krystal shaking very subtly while pressed against his side. From the three years he had known her, he could tell that she was afraid of something. The vixen was not easily frightened, and she was known for having nerves of steel—however, when she was genuinely afraid, it meant that danger was almost certainly close by.

"What is it, Krys?" he whispered to his love, who turned her head and replied, "I'm detecting those same thought patterns I felt on Adalmure. I wonder if it's just my mind playing tricks on me, because this fog reminds me so much of that rainy night when we saw the battleship."

Fox tried not to look away in fear when he saw Krystal's aquamarine eyes glowing in the foggy darkness around him. They were definitely brighter than the last time he had seen them like that. Krystal saw the fear in his eyes and despondently asked, "My eyes are glowing again, aren't they?"

Fox simply nodded.

"I'm so sorry, Fox," she quietly whimpered. "I don't know what's happening to me. I'm starting to feel different—like something about me is changing. Ever since I had that dream about Iridium, something hasn't felt right."

Fox tenderly caressed Krystal's cheek just below her glowing right eye and replied, "Don't worry, Krystal. I'll love you no matter what happens—even if you become one of those things that tried to kill us on Adalmure."

"Why do you say that, Fox?" she nervously asked.

"Because you're starting to remind me of one of them."

Krystal gasped and felt her face, trying in vain to find any changes she could discern. She and Fox hadn't noticed her slight change in appearance because they saw each other on a day to day basis; but if Krystal were to compare two pictures taken of herself now and two months earlier, she would have been shocked. She always had an enviable physique, but she was leaner and more defined now than she had been in the past. Her facial features had also sharpened ever-so-slightly; and her fur had taken on a darker, much richer complexion. The vixen continued to shake in fear as she squeezed into Fox's side and quietly whimpered a pitiable, helpless cry. She was afraid of what might have been in the forest; but more than that, she was afraid of what she felt she was becoming.

Wanting to ease his possible future mate's pain, Fox sat up the sleeping bag and compassionately said, "Krystal, I'll keep watch over the camp tonight. Go to sleep—I'll protect us."

Krystal fearfully shook her head and replied, "No, Fox. I'll do it. I won't be able to sleep. You don't know how much I've been tortured since that awful dream."

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" Fox pleaded with his palms opened towards Krystal.

The Cerinian miserably lowered her head and whispered, "I don't want to bring you into my suffering, Fox. I love you more than anything else in this world, but I think this is my battle this time—and there's nothing you can do to help me through it.

Fox felt crushed, and he watched with great pain as Krystal slid out of the sleeping bag, pulled her Cerinian staff from her backpack, and stepped to the edge of the camp. "Go to sleep, Fox. I love you," he heard her say.

Krystal's mind was still overrun by the eerily familiar thought patterns that haunted the misty forest around her. Extending her staff and quietly walking away from the camp, stopping just before she could no longer see it, she looked around the wooded expanse for anything—anything at all. Nothing caught her eyes; and eventually, she sat down on a mossy rock in front of a tall oak tree. A large, shallow river tranquilly flowed through the wooded area she sat in, with its water peacefully lapping at the many small boulders that peeked above its surface. Collapsing her staff and holding if between her blue paws, she examined the elegant weapon she had possessed since she was a girl on Cerinia. She was trained to use it before she was sixteen, and it was safe to say that she had mastered it by this point. Fox had made good use of it while he was on Sauria, but even his skillful combative maneuvers were nothing compared to hers. Hand-to-hand combat was her forte, and she her movements in combat were fast; even for a Cerinian—and they were known to have lightning-fast reflexes.

She thought of her combat instructor; a wise and tough, yet kind middle-aged Cerinian who wore an eye patch and always made his students feel accomplished. She remembered how he had often taken her aside to personally train her apart from the other members of her tribe. It wasn't because she was part of the royal line—it was because he saw something special about her. She had always been regarded as a special person by everyone who knew her on Cerinia. She always found time to help those in need; and she often used her royal position to shower kindness on the less fortunate whenever possible. Her older sister was in line to become the next Queen of the tribe that resided along the Eastern Sea, but even she felt that Krystal would have been a better ruler than her. Krystal's kindness and her loving heart were unmatched by anyone on Cerinia; and even in a foreign solar system, she still showed her compassion for others in ways very few ever could.

The vixen dropped the staff on the grass beneath her hiking boots and looked down at the lush, green blades that swayed in the light breeze surrounding her. She turned her head and looked at her right arm, and she sighed heavily as she saw that her glyphic armband tattoo was glowing brightly.

Feeling helpless, she looked up into the sky above her. The starlit canopy was partially obscured by the fog, but she could still see many of the stars that glowed and flickered in the darkness of space. She wondered if there were more people out there somewhere. Maybe there was another planet like Cerinia with a lush tropical environment and telepathic residents like herself. She wanted to believe there was another Eden like hers; because if there was, she would take Fox there and spend the rest of her days loving him and lavishing her kindness on the man who deserved every ounce of it.

A sinking feeling arose deep in her heart, and she leaned forward on the rock and rested her head on her palms. "_Why did I survive when no one else did?" _she hopelessly thought to herself. She felt like she had just finished restarting her life and putting all the broken pieces back together when _he_ appeared and shattered it all once again. She didn't want to change. She didn't want to be the 'last of the Iridian people.' She wanted to be Krystal— the member of Star Fox, and the wife of Fox McCloud. Due to her recent physical changes, she didn't know who she was anymore. She feared that someone or something deep inside was slowly rising up and threatening to silence her.

In desperation, she softly cried out, "Who am I? What am I?"

Through the shroud of fog, a familiar powerful voice came to her ears. "_Come to Iridium, and all will be revealed._"

Krystal was petrified, but she resolved herself to answer. "I know," she sternly replied, feigning confidence, "But I don't know where it is!"

"_You will find it. The time is drawing near."_

She looked down and saw that her fingers were twitching in fear, while all of her fur stood on end. "What's happening to me? Please! Tell me!" she fearfully demanded.

The voice stoically replied, "_You are becoming who you were destined to be. From the day you were born, it was meant to be this way. Your birth marked the end of an eon, Daughter of Cerinia. You are the last one of us."_

"Can you answer one more question, please?" she apprehensively requested.

"_Yes._"

"Will I lose Fox in this?"

The voice seemed to pause and deeply sigh. "_That is to be determined._"

The Cerinian wept uncontrollably, letting the tears run down her face and onto her thick cut-off jacket. "Please! He's everything to me! I would be dead if it wasn't for him! Please tell me he'll be okay! Please!"

"_I cannot do that, daughter,_" the voice sadly answered. "_That will be for him to decide."_

"Wait!" Krystal yelled, "What about the fortune Fox found on Sauria that said we were meant to be together?"

"_Your paths were intertwined for a reason, daughter. Indeed, you were meant to be together—and you are now."_

"But what about the part that said, 'Together as one, you will bring peace?'"

The voice grew silent, and the sound of heavy breathing could be heard throughout the forest before the voice spoke again and said, "_You will find what that means when all has come to pass. In time, it will be made clear to you. Have no fear, Daughter of Cerinia. Fear is the greatest of all your enemies. If you can defeat it, you will never be defeated. It is with these words that I now leave you. Farewell, daughter. You will find your answers on Iridium."_

The voice vanished, and the sounds of the crickets and the small creatures of the forest reclaimed the night. Krystal continued to sob as she once again examined the glowing white prints on her arms.

"_Why me?"_

Crying tears of helplessness, the vixen stood up and reclaimed her staff. She very slowly made her way back to the camp, where Falco, Slippy, and Fox were all asleep. Lucky them. They were at peace with their circumstances. They didn't have to worry about a foreign voice or an alien prophecy. Their only cause for concern was with the Ichtosian Army's attempt to overthrow the Cornerian Federation; and they were confident in their ability to stop them from achieving their goals.

Before she reached the camp, Krystal looked around herself to make sure she was still truly alone. The strange thought patterns she had sensed earlier were growing stronger. Suddenly, she saw two piercing purple eyes cutting through the fog, glowing with an unearthly intensity. She screamed instinctively, but not loudly enough to wake the rest of the team. She brandished her staff and examined the area, but was unable to find any trace of the phantasmal lights she had just seen.

"Where are you? Come out where I can see you!" she demanded to the invisible being.

Nothing happened whatsoever. There was no sound of movement through the trees, and the vixen's keen aquamarine eyes saw only the misty forest around her. Carefully checking her every step for the phantom, she slowly made her way back to where Fox slept, walking backwards at times to make sure nothing was following her. There was no way she could sleep after seeing those eyes. Envying Fox, Falco, and Slippy, she collapsed on the ground in the middle of the camp and meaninglessly drew Cerinian symbols in the small patch of bare dirt she was seated on. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Somewhere inside the sprawling Iridium complex, Voltimure Reige reclined in a white synthetic-leather chair next to a similarly-colored couch in one of the facility's lounges. A glass-plated coffee table stood in front of him, with a large, thick window taking up most of the wall behind him. It was night, and with no moon to illuminate the darkness outside, it was pitch black as well. Voltimure rested his large paw against his head and sighed, thinking back on the unexpected discovery he had found earlier in the day. His blue-furred A.I. stepped into the room, carrying a glass filled with a teal-green drink for her master, who silently accepted it without a word and slowly began to drink it.

The mechanized vixen lightly paced over to a black piano, which stood against the room's moderately-sized water basin. A narrow, elevated trench filled with water ran around the perimeter of the room, adding a soft touch of natural beauty to the space. With a melancholic expression, Rose slid onto the black bench behind the piano and began to play. She knew what her master liked thanks to her programming; and the soft, lovely musical notes, combined with the relaxing effects of Voltimure's drink, helped the immense scientist to calm down, if only slightly. Rose played three soft pieces for him before walking over to her master and seating herself next to him on the abandoned couch. Voltimure was still reticent about earlier and wore a bitter frown on his lips. Still resting his paw under his jaw, he turned to Rose and spoke as if it didn't matter that she was there. He asked questions which had no answers, and all Rose could do was stare back at him with a sad, understanding gaze.

"Why would she do that? It makes no sense! The Aparoids were… monstrous—not like her at all. She was beautiful, unlike them. I wish someone could tell my why she's doing this to me. It rips my heart in two to watch her degrade to this level of corruption. Oh, why? Why is this happening?"

Rose reached over, touched the bare black skin on his arm, and replied, "Perhaps she was always that way, and you didn't realize it until now."

"SILENCE!" Voltimure violently snarled, "That's a lie! No one could have ever been more loving and pure than she was!" He paused for a moment and then launched into a brief soliloquy, "My dearest Agatha, what has become of you? Please, come back to me. I'll find our daughter and bring her back to live with us. We can live here together, where there's no war, no violence, and no suffering. We can be the originators of a new race with you as their queen and me as their king—and I will promise to love you unconditionally, with no strings attached."

The Cerinian-colored A.I. slowly stood up and reclaimed Voltimure's drinking glass, which was empty except for the few remaining ice cubes that she had dropped in to cool it for him. "I'm going to shut down for the night," she said quietly, slowly walking away from Voltimure, who sadly gazed at her and replied, "Have a good rest, my friend. I'll be in the laboratory if you need me."


	13. Chapter 13: Event Horizon

**Chapter 13: Event Horizon  
**  
Date and Time: April 18, 10 ALW, 7:12 A.M.

Fox slowly slid his eyelids open to the sight of his love curled up with her legs crossed on the bare ground in front of his sleeping bag. She clearly hadn't slept, and her entire being resonated with sorrow and a longing to be freed from her suffering.

"Good morning, Fox," she quietly said in a joyless voice.

Her closest friend clumsily climbed out of his sleeping bag and knelt beside her, fondling her soft muzzle that was lighted coated in the morning dew as he caringly gazing into her eyes. He said nothing, but instead attempted to comfort the forlorn Cerinian with physical touch. While Falco and Slippy still slept, he daringly reached beneath Krystal's shirt and tenderly stroked her upper breast area. The vixen breathed deeply and almost smiled in response to his touch, but she still retained her solemn expression and said nothing to him.

"Please, talk to me, Krystal," Fox worriedly said.

Krystal sighed heavily. She looked up into Fox's kind, loving eyes and tried to smile; but the agony of her ongoing situation held her back and prevented her from feeling any joy. She faintly spoke, "I feel cursed, Fox. I didn't do anything to deserve what I'm going through. My people are dead, my planet is gone, and now I'm supposed to be the 'chosen one' that somehow saves all of us. I can't do it. I'm not that kind of person. I'm just a Cerinian girl in an unfamiliar star system, and that's all I want to be."

Fox paused to think about what she had said. She had never told him the full extent of her dream, and this was the first time he had ever heard anything about her being 'chosen' for a heroic undertaking. "Krystal," he said, "If you've been chosen, go for it. I'll be with you every step of the way."

Krystal shook her head and desolately replied, "No, Fox. You can't come with me. I…I can't explain it, but I have to go by myself.

Fox's ears immediately dropped. "What? W…why, Krystal?"

"I don't know. _He_ told me."

"Who's _he_?" Fox unhappily asked.

"I don't know, Fox—I really don't," she desperately answered. "Look, I want you to come with me to Iridium as much you do; but you can't. I promise that if I come back, I'll dedicate myself to you. I'll be all yours, and you can do anything you want with me. Take it as my token of appreciation for you."

"You don't have to do that, Krystal," Fox emotionally replied. He paused and stared at the Cerinian glyphs she had drawn on the ground before he returned his eyes to her beautiful face and said, "Can I ask you something, Krystal?" This question's been on my mind for a while."

"What is it, Fox?"

Fox reached into his pocket and pulled out his mother's wedding ring which Krystal had placed on his dresser back at the hotel. Almost breathlessly, he asked, "Krystal, will you marry me?"

After hours of sadness, Krystal's face finally broke into a feverish smile.

"Yes, Fox."

Both Fox and Krystal reached for each other and passionately shared a heartfelt kiss that felt long overdue, even though they had kissed many times before. Cherishing the moment, they slowly fell into each other's arms and sighed, almost in relief.

_"Thank you, Fox,"_ Krystal faintly whispered into Fox's ear.

_"You're welcome, Krystal."_

In time, Fox and Krystal rose to their feet and looked around the camp. The sun had already risen over the horizon, but Falco and Slippy were still asleep. Deciding that it was time to move, Fox walked over to where they slept and shook both of their sleeping bags. Falco groaned and exclaimed, "Is it time already, Fox? Come on!" Slippy didn't complain, but he didn't seem very happy to have been awakened, either.

"Let's get moving, team," said Fox, "We've got 18 miles to go. If we move quickly, we can get to the base before noon."

Falco frowned and slowly rolled up his sleeping bag, while Slippy did the same. Krystal pulled an apple out of her backpack and heartily bit into it, while Fox slung his bag over his shoulder and began walking in the direction of the base. The cool morning air on Fortuna made the trek much easier, and the team was able to make excellent progress towards the base. As the forest opened up and they walked through a canyon of artistic proportions, Krystal nervously said, "I feel those thought patterns again. We're being watched."

"Keep your eyes open, team," Fox ordered as they all drew their blasters and held them at the ready in case they were needed. Disturbingly, as the hours and the miles rolled by, the powerful thought patterns never left or dissipated. With only two miles remaining until they arrived at the base, Fox halted and thought about the strategy for the next portion of the mission.

"We need to split up, team. This base is bound to have multiple entries, and we're less likely to be detected if we all go our own way. We'll be in constant radio contact throughout the operation. Let me know if you find anything of interest."

Krystal worriedly opined, "Fox, what about the person watching us?"

"Are you sure it's a person?"

"Positive," she affirmed, "It has the exact same thought patterns as the enemy we ran away from on Adalmure."

"In that case, everyone needs to use extreme caution," Fox sternly replied. "I'm going to guess that if there are enemy troops stationed at the base, the person tailing us won't follow us in."

Falco grimly remarked, "If that's the case, then we need to get into that base ASAP."

"My thoughts exactly," said Fox. "Let's get a move on, team. Falco, you and Slippy take the right. I'll take the left with Krystal."

"Got it, Fox. Be careful out there, buddy."

Falco and Slippy took the east path to the base until they came to what was undoubtedly a service tunnel. Both pilots stood at the entrance, looking into the pitch black darkness ahead. Neither of them particularly wanted to be the one to step into the dark shaft that led to the main portion of the base.

"Heads or tails?" Falco asked, pulling a coin from his pocket.

"Tails."

The coin flipped through the air until it came to rest on the grass below with the Cornerian crest facing up. "Damn it. It's tails," Falco muttered. "It's your choice, Slippy."

"There's no way I'm taking that tunnel," Slippy replied.

"All right then. Good thing I'm not afraid of the dark." The avian slowly stepped into the dark tunnel as Slippy began to circle around the large perimeter of the landmass surrounding the base, looking for another way in.

The darkness in the tunnel was stifling. Falco assumed that the floor would be clear of any obstacles, but he still couldn't be sure that something wouldn't be there to trip him up. He held his blaster with both of his wings, ready to fire; but he knew that even if someone were to enter the tunnel he was in, there would be no way they could see him. The musty-smelling shaft was built at a slight incline, and it was primarily used as a means of exit for various ground-based vehicles such as tanks and half-tracks. Falco slowly ascended the shallow slope towards what he hoped would be a slightly more illuminated area. He hadn't attached a thermal sight to his blaster, and the only other means of providing light for himself in the darkness (a flashlight) was too risky. However, he did have several firearm components in his heavy backpack, which he realized could become a real problem if he ever needed to move quickly.

A dim light began to appear at the end of the tunnel, and Falco rejoiced at the sight of it. Nonetheless, he knew he had to be careful in case the base was occupied. The Ichtosians would have no qualms about killing a member of the team that had contributed to their defeat on Katina, and Falco knew this. At the very top of the inclined tunnel, he set his backpack down and looked behind him to where he had just come from. The light from the forest outside the tunnel was nonexistent. He checked the time on his wrist interface, and he found that he had spent more than ten minutes walking through the tunnel. An opened door panel stood to his left, and he craned his head around the opening to see what was in the next room. The space adjacent to the tunnel was a large hangar area, and in it were a small number of black and red tanks and fighters. Falco immediately dropped into a crouch and contacted Fox.

Star Fox's leader responded in a hushed voice through Falco's communicator. "What is it, Falco?"

"Fox, I've confirmed four tanks and three fighters. They're definitely here."

"Oh, boy. That's not good at all," Fox groused, still keeping the level of his voice down so that no one around him could hear it.

"By the way, Fox," said Falco, "Where are you, anyway?"

"I'm on a hill overlooking the base," said Fox. "I'm going in for a closer look."

"Careful, Fox."

"You too, Falco. Whatever you do, don't get caught."

"Got it."

Falco ended the transmission and picked up his blaster, knowing that he needed to obtain as much information on the enemy installation as he possibly could. The more information the team could provide to Peppy, the more effective an allied attack would be. Quietly unzipping his backpack, he removed a suppressor and screwed it onto his blaster's muzzle. Falco very carefully looked out into the hangar to make sure the coast was clear, and after ascertaining that no one was nearby, he silently made his way out of the access tunnel and into the hangar area. He stuck to the hangar walls, ready to attack if the need came. The hangar's large opening allowed a generous amount of sunlight into the dark space, which was marginally lit by several overhead can lights, one of which was flickering badly.

A sudden sound came to his ears. Footsteps. Thinking quickly, he dove behind an unopened munitions cache that sat behind a large tank outfitted with enormous treads. Placing his back against the metallic crate, he silently listened for any additional noises. The light tapping sound continued, growing closer with every second. The irregular gait of the steps revealed to the avian that there were two people in the hangar besides himself. Falco's heart rate began to climb as the tapping sound grew louder. They were practically next to him. One of the two soldiers began to talk in a gruff, insensitive tone of voice.

"Colonel, I don't normally congratulate my subordinates, but you've done a damn fine job refinishing this base. The Commander would be proud."

"Thank you, General," the other solider replied.

Falco's heart jumped at the mention of the word 'general.' One of the most important parts of the enemy's armed forces was standing right behind him, without even knowing that he was there. The pilot considered the option of launching a surprise attack, but he thought better and kept quiet. Going on the offensive was not a guaranteed way to bring down the general; and even if he managed to silence him, every soldier in the base would quickly converge on his position. With his heart still pounding in his chest, Falco continued to listen to the conversation between General Blackworth and his colonel.

"I've received word that the Commander's battleship is due to be delivered this evening," the black lupine asserted.

"This evening? Are you kidding me, General?"

Blackworth chuckled cruelly in response and said, "It's ahead of schedule—I know. But that's just the way the boss likes to do things. Make sure everyone here is ready by the 19th. All hell's going to break loose after that. The Commander didn't elaborate on his plans, but I know that whatever he does, it's going to be devastating to the Cornerians."

"Yes, sir," the colonel obediently replied, "I'll make sure they're ready."

"Thank you, Colonel Samuelson. Say, what's in this box? I don't remember seeing that on the dropship."

Falco began to panic. If they moved any closer to the crate he was leaning up against, he would be finished.

In response to Blackworth's question, the colonel replied, "Oh—that? It's a shipment of new firearms for the infantry."

"Very nice," Blackworth approvingly spoke. "Do you mind if I take a look?"

"Not at all."

Falco could hear the sounds of the colonel digging through his pockets for the key to unlock the munitions crate. Thankfully for him, the lock was on the side of the box opposite from him. Still, if they opened it, they would be guaranteed to see him. There was no way to duck and cover now. He was as good as dead. The jangling of the colonel's keys was like a knife to Falco's ears. It was the sound of death. The avian's breaths came in quick, short, panicked bursts; and he prepared for the worst as the colonel searched for the key that would unlock the munitions crate.

"Aw, s-t. I left the key in my quarters. Do you want me to get it?"

"Don't bother with it, Colonel," Blackworth indifferently replied. "I'll check it out some other time."

Falco began to breathe normally as the two officers slowly exited the hangar. _"That was way too close,"_ he told himself, knowing that if the colonel had remembered his keys, he would have been killed. Having heard everything that he and his commanding officers on Corneria needed to know, he cautiously stepped out of the hangar into the tunnel, where he picked up his backpack and slowly made his way out of the tunnel and back into the forest of Fortuna. Now all that was left was to wait for the other three pilots to finish their inspections of the area. While he stood at the exit to the tunnel, Falco checked the positions of his teammates. The digitalized map of the area showed that Slippy was in the hangar across from the one he had taken shelter in, while Fox was still in the forest roughly half a mile from the base. Strangely, Krystal's location was unknown.

_"That's strange."_

Falco selected Krystal's extension, called it, and waited; but he failed to receive an answer from the Cerinian.

"Krystal? Do you read me? Are you okay?" He nervously spoke into his communicator.

Nothing came back to him—not even a whisper. Falco repeated the message, but still, there was no response. Deeply concerned about the blue vixen, he sat down on the grass and called Fox once again.

"Fox here. What is it this time, Falco?"

The avian worriedly replied, "Krystal's not showing up on my tracker, and she's not answering her comms device."

Falco could feel Fox's heart sink, even through the emotionless airwaves. Fox said nothing for the next fifteen seconds, which led Falco to believe that he was checking his own trackers to make sure that Krystal's absence wasn't a glitch with Falco's unit. His greatest fears were realized when he failed to locate her on his wrist-mounted readout.

"Uh, Falco—I'm going to pull out," he said in a broken voice. "We've got to find her."

* * *

Taking the route around the back of the east portion of the base, Slippy discovered another tunnel. However, unlike the last one, this tunnel was much wider. The amphibian accurately deduced that it was designed to allow spacecraft to easily exit the base. Following that reasoning, he warily stepped into the dark tunnel and drew his weapon in case of an enemy presence. Fortunately, there were no enemies to deal with; and soon, he entered a hangar that was somewhat larger than the one Falco had infiltrated. Five Ichtosian fighters were parked on the cold hangar floor, facing towards the opening he had just walked through.

The amphibian quickly whipped up a devious plan. After checking to make sure no one was around to see him, Slippy took off his backpack and pulled out a small blue toolkit. Selecting a small, yellow-handled wire cutter and a star-drive screwdriver, he slowly and silently climbed up into the cockpit of one of the IA-42 fighters and quickly set to work unscrewing the dashboard display. The panel came off quickly and effortlessly, leaving the precious electronics hopelessly exposed to the frog's wrath. With a devious grin, Slippy skillfully severed the wires leading to the ignition system and the main guns, rendering the ship useless until someone would later realize that it had been sabotaged. As he was replacing the dashboard, he received a transmission from Fox. _"Not now, Fox,"_ he muttered as he tightened the last screw and climbed out of the fighter. His leader was persistent, though; and soon, Slippy had no choice but to gather up his backpack and slink back into the darkened tunnel where there was less of a chance of being spotted. Irritated, he answered Fox's incoming call.

"What is it Fox? I'm busy in here!"

Fox's voice was cold and stern. "Slippy, get out of there and meet me back at the area where we split up earlier. Krystal's gone missing."

Slippy gulped and replied, "Uh… okay, Fox." As quickly as he possibly could, he sprinted out of the tunnel all the way back to where Fox and Falco were waiting for him. Fox looked ghastly. Fear and worry were plastered over his entire figure, and he was deeply concerned that the unidentified stalker might have attacked Krystal.

"What should we do, Fox?" Falco asked.

Fox frantically scratched the underside of his jaw and furiously attempted to formulate a plan to find and rescue Krystal—that is, if she was still alive. There was no way of knowing which way she would have been taken, because the unseen marauder had been purportedly trailing them for more than ten miles. Fox became more furious with every passing second. He couldn't let the woman to whom he had pledged his hand in marriage be taken from him. Not like this. His ill-fated circumstances were further exacerbated by the fact that in less than 36 hours, the Ichtosian flagship and its fleet would be arriving at the planet they were on at that very moment.

Finally making up his mind, he ordered, "Guys, get back to your ships and let Peppy know about what you found. I'll look for Krystal."

"Fox, I don't know about…"

"That's an order, Falco! Get going!"

Reluctantly, Falco and Slippy trudged off into the forest, leaving Fox alone in the forest to search for his lost mate. He thought, "If she was headed west, and we came from the south, I probably need to follow the river back to where we came from. It would make the most sense for someone to set up a shelter close to a source of water."

The river was the only clue he had to Krystal's whereabouts. Slowly marching into the forest, carrying his heavy backpack; he reached the banks of the calm river and began to trace his path back towards where he came from. From the position of the sun overhead, he gathered that it was approximately two in the afternoon. He would have six hours until the sun set and ushered in the moonlit night. He knew that he had to constantly keep his guard up; because for all he knew, the marauder might have been on his trail as well. Hours flew by without one trace of the missing Cerinian. Still, Fox doggedly followed the river, hoping that his patience would be rewarded. The backpack slung over his shoulders did nothing to make his travels easier; and he temporarily considered ditching it and moving forward without his wilderness survival kit. The late afternoon air was fresh and warm, and the beautiful sounds of the forest seemed to sing a song of peace and solace that Fox mostly ignored. The gravity of his situation was far too great for him to focus on anything other than locating the lost blue vixen.

Suddenly, he spotted something on the ground in front of him. It appeared to be of a metallic complexion, and it brilliantly reflected the sunlight that shone upon it. Fox quickly ran up to it and found it to be one of Krystal's tail rings. Finally, he had a clue that told him he was moving in the right direction. Picking up the silver ring, he clutched it in his right paw and muttered, "I'm coming for you, Krystal."

Many hours later, darkness fell upon Fortuna. The silver moon rose over the forest canopy, bathing the landscape with its soft light while the sound of crickets helped to set the mood in the rustic forest. Fox's wrist unit indicated that in the eight hours he had been searching for Krystal, he had traveled a total of 24 miles. In fact, he was almost parallel with where he had landed his Arwing the day before. However, apart from finding one of Krystal's tail rings, he had come up empty-handed. He was exhausted after the day, most of which was spent walking.

He shook his head in disbelief after calculating that he had traversed a total distance of 41 miles in one day. The last time he had managed anything close to that figure was when he had been assigned to Sauria two years ago. Everything about that mission was wrong. Planets didn't simply fall apart, glowing rocks didn't have magical powers, and spirits didn't help hold worlds together. At least that's what Fox thought before he arrived on Sauria, which was called Dinosaur Planet at the time. That place had taught him so much about himself; and by the end of the extended mission, he had matured significantly. Not only that, but after completing the mission, he also received the much-needed funds to repair the Great Fox. However, one other reward trumped them all—and her name was Krystal.

With his strength almost gone, Fox dropped his backpack and rolled out his sleeping bag. He pulled off his jacket and tossed it onto the backpack beside the river before sliding into the sleeping bag and quickly falling asleep.

* * *

"Veratico City control tower to _Phoenix_—you are cleared to land in dock 4F."

Voltimure Reige's recently-completed dreadnaught commandingly entered the atmosphere of the planet Ichtos. The planetary clock indicated 7:35 P.M. as Voltimure carefully guided the sizeable craft into the large dry-dock built specifically for the new battleship. This was the first time he had visited the advanced metropolis, which bore a fleeting resemblance to the rebuilt Corneria City. The summer weather was nearly perfect, and the darkening red sky was beautifully pure, without the climate-damaging pollution that was present on most other planets of its kind. After the black battleship was in position, Voltimure activated the landing sequence, causing the behemoth to slowly drop altitude until it came to rest on the specially designed landing braces of the dry-dock. The ship was truly a magnificent sight. The fresh black paint reflected the sun's bright rays almost as if it were a mirror, nearly giving the illusion that the ship was covered in water. Within minutes of the ship's arrival, the Ichtosian Supreme Commander climbed from the cockpit of his exotic sports car and met Voltimure Reige in front of what was certain to be his new favorite toy.

"I see your tax revenue is hard at work there," joked Voltimure, grinning from ear to ear. "So, what do you think about the _Phoenix_?"

"She's beautiful— even better than I imagined," the Supreme Commander replied, in awe of his new battleship.

"Do try to go easy on those Cornerians, please," Reige suggested. "I don't think it's going to be a fair fight anymore."

The dictator chuckled at Voltimure's joking request before sternly answering, "Not a chance. They asked for it." He harshly paused, deeply furrowed his eyebrows, and coldly muttered, "They've been asking for it for years." The vulpine ran his eyes over the _Phoenix_'s mirrored hull, admiring the masterful attention to detail Voltimure had put into the warship's creation. "So, is she ready for action?"

"Armed and ready," replied Voltimure. "All you need now is a pantry full of food and two hundred pink blankies for your passengers."

The Supreme Commander grinned. He enjoyed Voltimure's off-beat humor. In a world of official speeches and eloquently-worded executive orders, the eccentric scientist's quasi-insane tendencies never failed to bring a smile to his face. "Take care of yourself, Reige. Oh, and if I may offer a suggestion…" said the dictator.

"What's that, sir?" Voltimure cheerfully asked.

The Supreme Commander raised his head and gazed at the horizon before slowly turning his eyes back to look at Voltimure. "…I wouldn't go near Fortuna if I were you."

"And by the way," he continued, "I booked you a stay at that hotel over there—the one looking out over the ocean. It's the least I could do for you." The dictator handed Reige a golden card and said, "Just show the receptionist that card, and they'll take care of the rest."

"Thank you, sir," said Voltimure.

"You're welcome, Doctor." He paused and scratched his muzzle pensively before continuing, "However, it saddens me to tell you that this marks the end of our business partnership. I wish you well in the future, Voltimure. Thanks for everything you've done to strengthen my cause. I promise you that it was worth it."

Voltimure sadly gazed at the Supreme Commander. He didn't know why he had just been released from his contract with the planetary leader, but he guessed that it had something to do with his strange behavior in regard to his findings with the Aparoid DNA the Commander had sent to him one day ago.

"I'm sorry, Voltimure. It wasn't going to work for much longer," the Commander said, trying to console the unhappy scientist.

"I understand," he murmured. "I'll be gone tomorrow."

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

_Just for today, I'm updating both this story and my other work _(The Oasis) _simultaneously. If you've been keeping up with that story as well as this one, you're in luck! _

_Also, I'd like to give a __special_ round of thanks to Emile the Watcher for recommending The Iridium Chronicle _in his collection of one-shots called _Star Fox: Destinies. _In return, I'm going to suggest that you check out _Destinies_ (if you review and give him a suggestion for a future one-shot, he might use it, so there you go...), as well as his other current Star Fox project called _Star Fox: The Dead Planet. _I haven't read all of it yet, but from what I've picked up so far, its really, really good. Go! Read it now!_

_...And on another note: As of today, July 2nd, _The Iridium Chronicle _has reached 2,000 views since I posted it about six weeks ago. Not really mindblowing, but it's something. So anyway... T__hanks for reading... and reviewing- if you did that. If not, well... whatever.  
_


	14. Chapter 14: Reverie

**Chapter 14: Reverie  
**  
Date and Time: April 19, 10 ALW, 2:21 A.M.

Fox slowly awakened, but instead of waking up to the light of a new day, he found that it was still night. Letting out a yawn, he sat up and looked around to make sure that everything was as it was before he fell asleep. His coat was still on his backpack, and the black bag was exactly where he had placed it hours earlier—or at least he thought it had been hours earlier. Deciding to continue his search for Krystal, he rolled up his sleeping bag and threw it over his shoulders onto his back along with his heavy backpack. At this point, he didn't know where to look next. He felt like he had exhausted all possible options in his search for his lost mate. In spite of this, he knew he had to find her. He couldn't leave her to die. He had only walked fifty feet when he saw a vulpine figure seated on a rock next to the clear, unspoiled river.

"Come, sit," the stranger said with a strong, mature voice.

Fox did as he was told and removed his backpack and sleeping bag before sliding up onto the rock next to the unidentified vulpine, who wore an unremarkable gray cloak with a hood that obscured most of his face except for the tip of his muzzle. Without a word, he placed his arm around Fox's shoulder. The mercenary almost screamed at the sight of the appendage, which had no flesh or fur—only bone.

"What are you?" Fox fearfully demanded, shaking the apparition's lifeless limb off of his shoulder.

The hooded stranger turned his head to meet Fox's eyes, revealing his glowing silver irises. Fox began to panic; and he tried to slide off the large rock he and the stranger were sitting on. However, the mysterious vulpine held him back with a force that was almost supernatural in its strength.  
"I have no name in your system," he replied, "But my people knew me as the Archetype of High Iridium."

Fox felt his blood turn to ice. He closely examined his strange guest's face, noticing that his fur was badly disheveled and untidy. Yet, in spite of his humble appearance, Fox quickly recognized that this 'Archetype' was no ordinary individual. He demanded respect without speaking a word, and his presence radiated a power so great that even a non-telepath like Fox could easily discern it. He would have bowed before him if he hadn't been seated next to him on the rock.

"What are you doing here?" Fox uneasily inquired.

The Archetype firmly replied, "I have come to give you a choice, Fox McCloud. By taking my daughter's hand in marriage, you are committing yourself to joining her in a trial far greater than anyone has ever faced before. Now is the time to make your decision. You can choose to walk away from her and keep your life as it is; or you can join her and risk losing everything, your soul included. If you choose the latter, I am warning you that the battle she will face was not intended for someone who is not an Iridian. I must also warn you that when all is said and done, she will not be the same as she is now—and neither will you, if you join her."

Without hesitation, Fox courageously said, "I don't care what happens to me. I never want to lose her."

The Archetype stood up and coldly spoke in a powerful voice, "Do not worry about losing her. Worry about losing yourself, Fox. I am giving you one last chance. Say 'no,' and this burden will be lifted from your shoulders."

"I will never abandon her," Fox vehemently declared, "That's my final answer."

The Archetype looked away into the distance and quietly said, "So be it."

Without another word, he slowly walked away from Fox, leaving him alone by the riverside.

* * *

Krystal didn't know how long she had been unconscious, or even how she had ended up where she was now. The memories of the day were but a blur. She vaguely remembered Fox proposing to her, but apart from that, her memory was blank. At the moment, she found herself bound and gagged, hanging by her feet from the ceiling of a primitive dwelling somewhere on Fortuna. She attempted to scream for help, but a rope firmly tied around her mouth prevented her from uttering anything more than a pathetic, muffled yelp. She thrashed around as much as was physically possible, but to no avail. She was completely helpless. She felt a sore spot on her rump, but she had no concept of why it was there. It was possible that she had been shot by a poisoned dart, because such an incident would explain why she had been unconscious for as long as she was.

She could vaguely hear the sounds of the crickets outside, allowing her to correctly deduce that it was still sometime at night or very early in the morning. A good-sized fire was burning in a contained area on the floor of the dwelling she was in, and the flames more than adequately warmed the small space. Closer inspection of the room revealed an assortment of Cornerian and Venomian firearms, along with several military uniforms and technological devices. The area also housed a narrow, long bed that was definitely suitable for one person and one person only. To her horror, Krystal also found that her staff, her blaster, and her wrist interface were all resting on a wooden bench across the room, completely out of her reach. She tried to scream, "Help me!" but the taut twine around her lips blocked almost all of the sound from her cry.

A sound came from the small hut's wooden door, which was made up of thin vertical logs from small trees the dwelling's resident had felled. The door swung open, and a tall, black-furred creature stepped into the building, carrying a net with several large fish in it. The creature was female in gender, and it had long raven hair that fell well below her shoulder line and naturally flowed with a regal elegance. She appeared to be a strange hybrid of an elegant vulpine species mixed with that of a brutish lupine. Her eyes were light purple, and they glistened with an intense, fiery light that put Krystal on edge immediately. She wore a set of badly-fitting Venomian fatigues, which were clearly designed with a man's frame in mind. Several pieces of an Aparoid exoskeleton were fastened to the cloth uniform in the most critical areas, providing her with a more-than-adequate level of protection from any attack. The creature, who stood 6'2" tall—six inches taller than Krystal—slowly walked up to the Cerinian; and after observing that she was awake, she moved closer until her sharp, lupine muzzle was less than a foot away from Krystal's delicate mouth. Very cautiously, she produced a keen black knife from her belt and slowly cut away the rope from around Krystal's face.

"_Khau toa Cerinus?_" she spoke in a language that caused Krystal to stare into her glowing eyes in shock. The language was very similar to her native Cerinian—so similar, in fact, that she believed that instead of it being another language, it was merely a different dialect of her native tongue.

"_Taux_," she replied, hoping the creature would react positively to her response.

The creature took a step back and observed Krystal. Evidently, she had heard of the Cerinians at some point in her life and was keenly interested in her because of it. Krystal began to wonder if she had been kidnapped solely for that reason, because no other motive could be inferred through her current circumstances. Speaking in her native tongue, she asked the creature, "Who are you, and what are you doing with me?"

"My name is Violet," the black creature quietly replied. "You're here because I need your help. I haven't seen my father in years, and I don't have a way to leave this planet."

Krystal frowned angrily. She couldn't believe that her new acquaintance had subdued and captured her for such a trivial purpose. "Are you serious?" she furiously replied. "You shot me and hung me up from the ceiling so I could take you to your father? Why didn't you just ask?"

Violet shamefacedly replied, "Because I didn't trust you not to shoot me. Believe me—I didn't have a choice. I've got to get off this planet, no matter what."

"Well, where do you want me to take you, then? Krystal unhappily asked.

"Have you ever heard of a planet called Iridium?"

Krystal's expression immediately changed, and her eyes widened at the mention of the enigmatic world far outside the Lylat System. "Do you know where it is? I need to go there, too!" she excitedly exclaimed, stunned at her unbelievably good fortune.

Violet affirmed, "If you can get me a ship, I'll show you where to go."

"It's a deal," Krystal replied. "Can you cut me out of theses ropes now?"

Violet quickly set to work freeing the Cerinian, who awkwardly dropped to the ground and yelped in pain after landing on her left shoulder. "I really should get moving. My, uh… husband is probably worried sick about me," said Krystal, standing up and eyeing her possessions on the bench across the room from her.

"Please, stay the night here," Violet kindly begged. "I'm sorry for bothering you—but I knew you could help me get off this planet. I'll make it up to you by letting you have my bed for the night."

Krystal examined the bed, which looked very comfortable in spite of its humble construction. A soft, purple bedspread was draped across the mattress, which was stuffed with straw Violet had gathered during her tenure on the planet. The vixen had to admit that her host was very resourceful. She had come here with nothing and was now able to thrive on the abandoned forest planet.

While Krystal examined the bed and the surrounding part of Violet's hut, her host pulled a wooden bucket from an overhead shelf and began to clean the fish she had freshly caught. The smell of fish internals was unpleasant, but it would be worth it in the end. Violet skillfully carved up the numerous fishes and speared them onto a rod that hung over the roaring fire in the middle of the floor. As Violet began to cook the fish, Krystal stood at the side of Violet's bed and put her paw on her belt buckle, preparing to unfasten it.

"Does it bother you if I take my clothes off?" she uncomfortably asked her host, wanting to make sure that Violet would allow her to undress before going to bed.

"It's not a problem," Violet softly answered, turning her attention back to her food which was cooking nicely. A pleasing aroma began to waft through the small dwelling, reminding Krystal that she hadn't eaten since that morning. The Cerinian slowly slipped out of her clothes and neatly folded them on the bed before placing them on the floor. She then took a seat across from Violet and observed what she hoped would be her dinner. The fish were finished several minutes later, and Violet brought out two wooden plates that she had carved herself. "Eat as much as you want. I've got more than enough for both of us."

Krystal took one of the plates and quickly pulled three fish off the cooking spear before proceeding to devour all of them in rapid succession. It appeared that Violet was also a heavy eater, although she clearly had not anticipated her guest being so hungry. Soon, all the fish had been devoured; and Krystal licked her lips and patted her swollen stomach, feeling completely satiated after her large meal. Her host generously took her empty plate and placed it next to an unfilled wash basin, where she would clean it tomorrow. Satisfied and stuffed with food, Krystal plopped down into Violet's soft bed and pulled the downy bedspread over her body. Even in her less-than-ideal circumstances, she felt like she was in heaven. While the Cerinian quickly faded off into sleep, Violet removed her Aparoid armor and pulled off her ill-fitting Venom Army fatigues. Neatly folding them and placing them on top of a stack of clothes to be washed, she moved in next to the fire and curled up into a ball on the floor. She didn't mind sacrificing her bed for one night. She was accustomed to hardship. Growing up without a mother on an abandoned planet with a mentally-unstable father tended to have that effect.

* * *

It was finally time.

The Supreme Commander of Ichtos stood in his staff room, looking out over Veratico City once again. The newly-completed _Phoenix_ was almost completely stocked and ready to move towards Fortuna. All that remained was for him to give the word. General Venucci slowly came alongside him and offered his hand for him to shake.

The Commander accepted his kind gesture and softly said, "I never thought I would have this chance, General. The Cornerian Army was always too powerful. Now, the tables have turned. This madness is about to come to an end; and I will finally set things right once and for all. As a fellow Cornerian, I am proud to have you with me, General. I know you sacrificed a lot to come here and fight alongside me."

"It's my pleasure," the hulking canine proudly replied.

The Commander continued with a tinge of bitterness in his voice. "My time on Ichtos is drawing to a close. I love these people, but my heart has always been with Corneria. When I leave with the _Phoenix_ this evening, it will be the last time I ever set foot on this planet. I will either wrest Corneria free from the clutches of tyranny, or I will die trying."

"I understand, sir. We will all miss you. But what will you tell Irena?"

The vulpine soberly replied, "I already explained to her that our time together is over. She cried when I told her that, but she'll learn to accept it and move on. She deserves someone better than me, anyway."

"I disagree," Venucci countered. "She couldn't ask for someone better than you. I think you should take her with you when you leave."

"I respect your opinion, General; but if I ever choose a mate, it won't be a soldier. There's no love in war; and even though you can take the soldier out of the war, you'll never take the war out of the soldier. It's a constant commitment suited to the select few, and I don't want to my wife to be part of that."

"Understood, sir."

The Commander reached into the chest pocket of his trench coat and unpinned his silver phoenix emblem. The badge signifying the leadership position of Ichtos shone brightly in the sunlight coming in through the bronze-tinted window in front of him as the dictator handed it to General Venucci, who solemnly accepted it and pinned it onto his dark gray jacket.

The Supreme Commander assumed a stiff posture befitting an officer and said, "Repeat after me: I pledge to defend my people at all costs."

Venucci obediently repeated his leader's words. "_I pledge to defend my people at all costs_."

"I understand that power is not something to be used for my own benefit, but for the benefit of others."

"_I understand that power is not something to be used for my own benefit, but for the benefit of others_."

"I believe that the State has no right to terminate life without a definite and indisputable reason."

"_I believe that the State has no right to terminate life without a definite and indisputable reason_."

"I will actively seek to eradicate injustice and corruption."

"_I will actively seek to eradicate injustice and corruption._"

"I will never accept compromise."

"_I will never accept compromise._"

The Supreme Commander finished, "Having vowed to lead the people of this planet to the best of your ability, I now declare you the Supreme Commander of Ichtos; effective as of midnight."

"Thank you, sir," Venucci humbly spoke.

The dictator slowly opened the door to his staff room and stepped out into the hallway. Before he closed the door for the last time, he said to General Venucci, "Goodbye, my friend." Then, he shut the door shut behind him, leaving his comrade alone in the staff room that would soon belong to him.

The Supreme Commander slowly walked down the sidewalk bordering the city's main avenue, heading toward the location of his docked flagship. Citizens of all ages and races frantically stepped out of his way as he passed by, and some civilians dropped to their knees in reverence to him. The dictator felt miserable for them. He was about to abandon the people who had elevated him to power beyond his wildest dreams. Without their help, none of this would have been possible. He looked in sadness at each and every one of them, almost as if to say, "_I'm sorry, but I have to go now._" He almost cried when he caught a glimpse of General Volkchelovek weeping bitterly against the side of the Ichtosian capital building. She had taken his decision to leave Ichtos personally; and she would never be the same after this. As he passed by, she turned and looked at him with tears streaming down her face. She said nothing to him, but her expression was enough for the dictator to know how she felt. He blocked the emotions that had begun to well up inside of him and pressed on.

The black silhouette of the _I.S.V. Phoenix_ soon appeared, and upon observing the sun beginning to sink into the horizon, the Supreme Commander glanced at his watch and saw that it was 7:50 P.M. At that moment, several APCs and tanks were being loaded into the enormous dreadnaught's hangar. The dictator watched as they slowly rolled up the ship's loading ramp before disappearing into the cavernous space inside the vessel. In minutes, he came to a gate with two armed guards preventing civilians from accessing the area. At the mere sight of their leader, they stepped aside and allowed the Supreme Commander to enter the restricted military area, which was filled with military equipment and personnel scrambling to prepare for the upcoming voyage to Fortuna.

The dictator stepped up to the ramp and greeted the colonel stationed by the ship. "Good evening, Colonel Galloway. What's the status of the other fleets?"

The Colonel firmly replied, "All is proceeding as planned. All six fleets are on the way to Fortuna. The 4th, the 9th, and the 7th assault fleets are in the first group; and the 1st, 5th, and 15th are fifteen minutes behind them. We're scheduled to launch the 11th fleet with the _Phoenix_ in exactly 23 minutes."

"Excellent work, Colonel," the Supreme Commander warmly spoke before ascending the ramp and slowly working his way through the ship until he reached the bridge, where the pilot, the navigator, and several mechanics were checking the various systems onboard the ship.

The pilot, a large malamute dog, rose from his seat and saluted his leader. "Good evening, Commander. I'm pleased to report that all systems are functioning properly. Takeoff is in 18 minutes." Turning to the husky navigator seated next to him, he said, "Stand by for ignition. Commander, would you like to do the honors?"

The vulpine eagerly answered, "My pleasure," and pressed the button marked IGNITION below the ship's holographic dashboard display. The _Phoenix_ shook violently in place as its powerful plasma engines roared to life, creating an earsplitting noise that filled the air for miles around the military area. Upon hearing the sound, many civilians began to crowd around the perimeter of the fenced military complex to watch the immense warship launch into the skies above the city.

The minutes slowly rolled by, when suddenly, the noise around the ship grew very quiet. The time had finally come to launch the _Phoenix_ and the rest of the 11th fleet.

"This is Captain Hudson of the flagship _Phoenix_ to the 11th fleet—commence launch in 60 seconds. Fire all engines if you have not done so already."

The sounds of plasmatic powerplants began to flood the air of Veratico City as the clock slowly counted down from 60. The Commander watched as the timer on the ship's dash slowly decreased in number. At 20 seconds, the captain slowly inched the throttle level forward, creating an even greater amount of noise via the ship's enormous engines. The final ten seconds of the countdown seemed like an eternity. In preparation for the launch, the Supreme Commander took an unoccupied seat next to an attractive female jackal who fondly gazed at him before frantically averting her eyes and assuming a stern, sober expression to avoid possibly incurring the wrath of her leader.

"3, 2, 1, and liftoff!" Captain Hudson announced, jamming the throttle lever all the way forward. The _Phoenix_'s engines emitted a tremendous roar that shattered windows three blocks away from its position as it slowly but surely ascended into the darkening skies over Ichtos. Throughout the rest of the city, the other ships of the 11th fleet also began to lift off; and soon, the entire fleet grouped into a v-shaped formation with the _Phoenix_ at the front. The fleet cast numerous imposing shadows onto the city as it continued to increase altitude. On the ground below, Irena Volkchelovek watched as her leader and former comrade slowly began to disappear from her view into the cold void of space. She began to cry, knowing that whether or not he succeeded in overthrowing the Cornerian Federation and setting himself up as its new potentate, she would never see him again.

General Venucci slowly walked up to her and placed his large beige paw on her shoulder. "You'll find someone better, General," he comfortingly spoke.

"No, I won't, Vincent. He meant so much to me. No other man could possibly take his place in my heart. He was more than a friend or a leader. He was almost like a father to me... the father I never had."

The Alsatian seemed to grow sad, and he tragically gazed into Irena's soft blue eyes. He could relate to her pain. This must have been how Bruno, Dev, and Xavier felt when he abandoned them after Lambda 3's death. He always referred to the husky by number because he didn't want to hear her name again. _Jaclyn_. That name was his word for failure.

Venucci soberly stated, "As the Commander would have said, 'The past is gone, and it's not coming back. There is only the future now.' It's time to move on, General. I won't forget about him either. None of us will."

The miserable coywolf fell into her commanding officer's arms and sobbed bitterly as the large canine lightly stroked her back and watched as the last of the black Ichtosian warships vanished into the distance.

"Who will we remember him as?" Irena despondently asked, pressing her tear-soaked face into the canine's chest.

General Venucci solemnly answered, "We'll remember him as the Supreme Commander of Ichtos. I may have that title now, but everyone will still know me as Vincent Venucci. The Commander needs no name. His title is enough. No one else can ever do what he did for these people. He deserves all the respect he gets from them. We should be honored that he chose us as his friends and comrades. But now, his time with us is over."

* * *

After a refreshing, comfortable night of sleep, Krystal awoke and happily stretched her limbs before rolling out of bed and pulling on her white shirt. Violet was still asleep, curled up on the floor next to the fire, which by this time had been extinguished. Krystal sympathetically gazed at the unclothed creature that quietly slept in front of her. While Violet remained asleep, the Cerinian very quietly observed her and began to decipher her previously indiscernible thought patterns, which were significantly weakened in her state of unconsciousness. The technical nature of her mind slowly began to unfold before Krystal as she intensely focused, trying to crack the code to Violet's thoughts.

Soon, Violet slowly opened her glowing purple eyes and sat up, letting out a small, adorable yawn. As she awoke, the dull, dark gray outlines on the sides of her torso quickly illuminated to match the intense hue of her eyes. Krystal did a double take, making sure that she was actually seeing what she thought had just occurred.

"Why do the lines on your chest light up when you're awake?" Krystal inquisitively asked her host.

Violet merely replied, "I don't know. It's always been that way."

The black-furred creature stood up and lightly stretched, making sure that all of her limbs correctly repositioned themselves after she had spent the night curled up in a ball on the floor. While Violet selected another set of poorly-fitting Venomian fatigues for herself to wear, Krystal dressed herself and claimed her belongings. Thankfully, none of them had been damaged. However, she immediately noticed that her communicator had been turned off.

"_Oh, Fox! I'm so sorry for you!_" she almost said aloud after realizing that Fox had probably spent the entire previous day searching for her without the slightest hint about her location. She immediately powered on the wrist-mounted unit and clipped it onto her left arm. After it had completed its initialization phase, Krystal quickly selected Fox's extension and attempted to call him.

Krystal smiled at the sound of her mate's ecstatic voice as he replied to her call. "Krystal? Is that you? Are you alright?"

"Yes, Fox—I'm fine. I'm sorry for how worried you must have been about me yesterday."

"I was afraid you were dead! What happened to you?" Fox demanded.

Krystal explained, "I was kidnapped by a woman named Violet because she wanted me to help her get off this planet. I'm with her right now, actually. By the way, she says she knows where Iridium is."

She could feel Fox's relief as he replied, "I'm just glad you're okay, Krystal. Listen—we need to get back to Corneria as soon as possible. Slippy and Falco have already left. If you can make it back to your fighter by yourself, I'll be waiting for you."

"Okay, Fox. I'll start walking back to the landing area right now."

After promising Violet that she would return and take her to Iridium, Krystal exited the primitive dwelling and stepped out into the fresh morning air. She took a deep breath, allowing the crisp, moist air to fill her lungs. Dew had fallen on the planet the night before, and water droplets were visible on the blades of grass as her black hiking boots trod over them. The sounds of the forest were pleasing to her ears, and the slow trickling of the water in the river added yet another element of peace and serenity to the unspoiled planet. She identified the position of her Seraph fighter on her wrist interface's digital map and realized that she was much closer to it than she at first imagined. The distance to it was less than three miles. Violet had left her backpack somewhere in the forest when she kidnapped her, not wanting to carry fifty pounds of additional weight. This made Krystal's short trek back to her fighter much easier and quicker.

Without the extra baggage slowing her down, she briskly ran to where Fox would be waiting for her; nimbly jumping over fallen trees and pushing through the deep underbrush with a relaxed form of determination. She was very much enjoying the environment of Fortuna, and she wondered if Fox would appreciate it if she were to bring him on a camping trip to the planet sometime in the near future.

In thirty minutes, her Seraph and Fox's Arwing came into view along with her leader and mate, who was standing beside her fighter with his arms crossed. Upon seeing Krystal, he abandoned his post and ran toward her more quickly than she had ever witnessed him run before. Throwing his arms around his mate, he squeezed her tightly and sighed in relief, knowing that she was alive and well. He had been worried sick about her ever since she had mysteriously disappeared the day before.

"I'm never going to let that happen to you again, Krystal. I promise."

Krystal faintly smiled and planted a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. Fox returned the favor and placed one of his own on Krystal's wet nose before cradling her head in his arms without saying another word. It was good to have her back.

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

_I am pleased to report that I have a third SF fanfic on the way (Oh dear, I'm really getting in over my head now. Writing two was actually feasible. Three... is not). The title for the new story is "_6 Days and 23 hours._"_ _It's centered around Kursed, and the two prominent themes are Tragedy and Hurt/Comfort. I'm not expecting it to be particularly long; and how often I post/update will most likely be determined by the number of reviews I get for it. Anyone who likes reading sad fanfics should definitely check it out when I post it._

_Until next time, then..._


	15. Chapter 15: Deus Ex Machina

**Chapter 15: Deus Ex Machina**

Date and Time: April 19, 10 ALW, 11:15 A.M.

All hands were on deck at the Corneria City military base in preparation for the upcoming conflict on and above Fortuna. Falco and Slippy had returned to Corneria the night before and informed Lieutenant General Peppy Hare and General Graves about the unforeseen movement of several Ichtosian fleets into Fortunan orbit. With the enemy vessels already well on their way to the heavily forested planet, there was no time to waste. After receiving word of the incoming enemies, Peppy ordered Fox and Krystal to return to the _Cardinal_ to meet up with Falco and Slippy, who had also been dispatched to the large Cornerian vessel. The majority of the Cornerian forces remained in patrol of Corneria, protecting their most valuable property from any possible attack.

The air inside the _Cardinal's _immense hangar was silent. Everyone onboard the vessel knew that this battle would be the deciding factor in the outcome of the war with the Ichtosian faction. Once again reunited as a team, the members of Star Fox uneasily sat down in one of the _Cardinal's_ lounge areas and unsuccessfully tried to relax. The small room contained three vinyl-covered chairs, a two-person leather couch, and a small refrigerator, which Falco opened. Without closely examining its contents, the avian indiscriminately reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a canned drink. He opened the can, enjoying the unique sound that it created, before he took a quick sip of the cola and immediately grimaced in response to the artificial flavor of what was undoubtedly a zero-calorie diet drink. Falco angrily set the unsatisfying drink on the floor in front of his chair and slouched forward, resting his head on his wings. Across from him, Slippy aimlessly played with his wrist interface, while Krystal rested her head on Fox's chest on the couch next to the chair Falco was sitting in. None of them knew when the order to move would come, but they knew that it would be soon. The number of incoming enemy ships was unknown, but the Cornerian command was prepared for the worst. They knew that the Supreme Commander of Ichtos was running out of options; and by sending in a large invasion force, he would give himself the greatest chance of victory.

Gently stroking Krystal's soft indigo hair, Fox glanced through the pane of glass out into the hallway, where the armored husky named Bruno Hartmann passed in front of him. This time, though, he was accompanied by a leopard and a wiry jackal who had painted his face with what appeared to be black and blue war paint. All three of them wore the same heavily armored combat suits, and they all carried heavy plasma assault weapons. As he had done before, the husky turned his head and nodded to Fox through the window before disappearing from his view.

Without a word, the three elite soldiers entered the hangar and approached the coyote acting as the Lieutenant Colonel before stopping in front of him and standing at attention.

"What's the situation, Lieutenant Colonel?" the husky gravely asked.

"We need to know what we're up against here, Lambda 4. Take your team and perform a reconnaissance sweep of the area around Fortuna. Use extreme caution."

"Affirmative, sir. Dev, Xavier—let's go."

All three troopers made their way to the same black fighters Star Fox had seen at the Space Dynamics training facility on Guila. The angular ships were designed with minimal surface area in mind; and if viewed from the top, their wings resembled the shape of a 'W.' Their engines made surprisingly little noise as they ignited; and before long, they began to move down the hangar tracks and pick up speed in preparation for launch. The trio of fighters soon exited the hangar and accelerated to their maximum cruising speeds en route to Fortuna.

The three pilots remained silent until Xavier muttered, "I still don't know why Vincent left us to fight for these guys."

"I do, Xav," the husky captain somberly replied. "Three."

"Jaclyn?"

"Please, don't even say her name, Xav," Bruno demanded. "She's a memory I wish I could forget."

"I understand, sir."

The silence returned as the three advanced fighters made their way to Fortuna. The flight did not take very long, and soon, they could see the faint outline of the planet.

"Entering Fortunan orbit," Bruno announced. The pilots neared the planet until they caught a glimpse of the unmistakable shapes belonging to the black Ichtosian warships that had already reached the planet.

"Am I seeing things, or is this actually happening?" the husky incredulously asked.

"They're nuts!" Xavier exclaimed, "That's six fleets in one place!"

As a highly trained ONYX, Bruno Hartmann was conditioned to shun fear. However, he began to become concerned about the possible outcome of the battle. Not only had the Ichtosians set up an almost impregnable defense around the planet, they had also airdropped thousands of soldiers into the Oikonny rebellion base Star Fox had infiltrated earlier. To make matters worse, the most powerful ship in the Ichtosian armada was on its way with yet another fleet.

With ice in his veins, Captain Hartmann bypassed the Lieutenant Colonel in charge of the _Cardinal _and directly contacted General Graves. The eagle sternly asked, "What's the matter, Lambda 4?"

"Sir, I'm looking at our opposition as we speak. It's not a fleet—it's an armada.

Graves's voice seemed to falter, and it became tinged with deep concern. "Are you serious? How many ships are there? Can you give me a rough estimate?"

"Two hundred fifty."

Graves unbelievingly replied, "No… This can't be happening… There's no way we can match that, Captain. They must have sent their entire navy to Fortuna."

"What do you suggest we do, General?"

The eagle coldly replied, "I'm ordering every available ship to enter the combat space and engage the Ichtosian military. We're going to need a miracle to pull this one off, Hartmann."

* * *

Aboard the flagship _Phoenix, _the Supreme Commander stood up and gazed out the front window at the multitudes of stars that flashed past his ship as it quickly sped toward its final destination.

"How much longer, Captain?" he asked.

The malamute replied, "Twenty minutes, Commander."

"Thank you, Captain."

The dark-furred vulpine turned away from the window and walked into the heart of the ship, where his personal quarters were located. He slowly pushed open the door and stepped into his bathroom, which contained the most basic of amenities. This ship was not a resort—it was a finely-tuned war machine; and as such, it did not need frivolous appointments. The Commander gazed into his own reflection in the mirror and examined his own face; almost as if it belonged to someone he had long since forgotten. Technically, he was no longer the Supreme Commander—that title had been transferred to General Venucci. Nonetheless, his title would define him for the rest of his life, regardless of who was in power on Ichtos.

Abandoning his reflection, he lay down on his white bed and blankly stared at the ceiling. The battle he was about to initiate would bring an end to the short conflict between his regime and the federation he was born under. This was it. It was either do or die now.

Emotionally, he spoke into the thin air, "I'm going to make you proud, Dad. No one on Corneria will understand what I'm doing, but I know that you would if you were still around. I'm going to restore Corneria to what it was before it was corrupt and backwards—I'm going to restore it to what it was before you died." After saying these words, he glanced at his watch.

Fifteen minutes until contact.

* * *

Every Cornerian ship that was armed and ready for combat powered toward Fortuna to take part in what was going to be the largest starborne engagement to have ever taken place in the Lylat System. More than four hundred ships from both Corneria and Ichtos were already present in orbit around the forest planet, and even more were on the way. The Cornerian 7th fleet led the way into the combat zone, with the _Cardinal _bringing up the rear, escorted by ten smaller cruisers and twenty frigates.

In the hangar, Star Fox nervously sat in their respective cockpits and awaited the order to launch. The ship began to shake noticeably as the 7th fleet began to engage the combined might of six Ichtosian fleets grouped together into an armada of epic proportions.

The frantic voice of the Lieutenant Colonel soon came over Star Fox's communicators. "Launch all ships!"

All four fighters slowly moved down the hangar tracks before accelerating and launching into the combat area in orbit around Fortuna. Fox immediately gasped at the sight of the enemy he would be facing. He had never seen anything like this before, and probably never would again. Entire hordes of enemy IA-42 fighters quickly swarmed around him and his team, forcing them to break formation and begin the engagement. The 18th and 3rd fleets began to enter the engagement area, providing valuable fire support to the outgunned 7th fleet and the _Cardinal_. Massive flashes of yellow light streaked past Fox's Arwing as the Cornerian flagship began to open fire on the Ichtosian armada. The space around Fortuna was chaotic beyond belief; and on both sides of the battle lines, smaller ships accidentally meandered into the paths of the larger vessels and were dashed to pieces without mercy. The Cornerian forces were fighting with everything they had to maintain control of the area above the planet. Losing this fight would most likely mean losing Corneria if there was no fleet to protect it. The captain of the _Cardinal _was particularly desperate. Fox watched as the massive Cornerian battleship intentionally plowed into the side of an Ichtosian battlecruiser that came across its path; ripping the long, narrow vessel in half with violent force.

As Krystal observed a detachment of twenty heavy dropships heading for the planet's surface, the Lieutenant Commander ordered, "Star Fox, protect those dropships at all costs! Don't let one of them go down!"

All four pilots quickly fell in behind the sluggish transport ships as a large Ichtosian fighter wing converged on them almost immediately. Laser fire flashed across the nose of Slippy's Bullfrog, but its heavy armor and thick shielding blocked most of the damage. Falco slammed on his brakes and fell in behind four IA-42s that had been trailing him before launching a single smart bomb into their midst and vaporizing all of them simultaneously. Meanwhile, Fox picked off two fighters trailing Krystal, and the vixen repaid him by looping around and shooting down a heavy IA-45 that had a lock on him. The dropships lumbered forward, doggedly determined to break through to the planet's surface. However, an Ichtosian frigate advanced into their path and began to fire at them.

Star Fox wasted no time in launching an attack on the medium-sized vessel, which vainly attempted to shoot them down. The distraction paid off, and the dropships easily maneuvered around the enemy ship, completely unscathed. With no more obstructions to block their paths, the dropships began to enter the atmosphere of Fortuna. However, the airborne struggle was far from over. As they broke through the clouds over the planet, they found a similarly alarming number of enemy targets in the skies of Fortuna. The dropships chose a landing area five miles from the former Oikonny rebellion base and began to descend. Star Fox continued to hold off the attacking Ichtosian fighters until each and every transport was completely unloaded.

Upon receiving word that the troops had been safely dropped to the planet, the Lieutenant Colonel warmly thanked the pilots of Star Fox. "Excellent work, Star Fox. I, for one, am overjoyed to have you on our side. We've got the space fighters under control up here. Maintain your position over the base and continue to engage the enemy forces."

The Cornerian Army was slowly beginning to beat back the larger Ichtosian Assault Force with the force of sheer determination and willpower. Unfortunately, they hadn't counted on one thing…

* * *

The Supreme Commander of Ichtos stood on the _Phoenix_'s bridge, preparing himself for his new ship's first taste of combat. The dictator was fully aware of what was about to take place. He was on the verge of engaging the majority of the Cornerian defense fleet above Fortuna. It was a risky and dangerous endeavor, especially with him on board the highest-profile warship in the entire military; but the time to play games with the Cornerians was over. There was no turning back now. Fortuna began to become visible in the distance, and with it, the teeming masses of spacefaring warships.

"Commander?" said Captain Hudson, "We're waiting for your orders." The Supreme Commander rose from his seat and soberly stared at the legion of enemy ships before him. This was it—the action that would determine the outcome of the entire war effort.

Taking a deep breath, the dictator of Ichtos clenched his fist, raised it to the sky, and forcefully shouted, "ATTACK!"

The main cannons of the _Phoenix_ roared into life, launching a lethal barrage of laser fire into the midst of the Cornerian ships, which quickly regrouped to face the newly arrived Ichtosian fleet. Unfazed by the chaos surrounding his flagship, the Commander took the helm of the dreadnaught from his captain and steered the lumbering behemoth in the direction of the _Cardinal_ while laser fire harmlessly deflected off the shielded windows in front of him.

"_If the cannons are as good as Voltimure said they were, I should be able to take down their flagship," _thought the dictator as he increased the output of the ship's enormous plasma engines.

In the _Cardinal's _bridge, the Lieutenant Colonel and the bloodhound pilot stared aghast at the newest wave of enemy ships, led by the _Phoenix_.

Squinting his eyes, the pilot fearfully remarked, "That thing looks like the _Great Fox _came back from hell."

"I believe you're right, Captain," the Lieutenant Colonel gravely replied. "Run a diagnostic scan and see what you can pull up."

The hound activated the ship's scanner, which attempted to pull up any and all retrievable information from the large dreadnaught that was quickly approaching the Cornerian flagship. The screen readout did nothing to ease their fears.

"_Leviathan-class heavy dreadnaught. Operating name: 'Phoenix.'"_

The ship's similarity to the former _Great Fox_ was so undeniable that a coincidence in design was impossible. Very quickly, the Lieutenant Colonel and the captain of the _Cardinal _realized that their own faction's design was being used against them. How the Supreme Commander had managed to extract the information needed to build a ship that similar to the highly-specialized _Great Fox_ was a mystery to them.

"I never wanted to know what it would be like to have to face the _Great Fox,_" the Lieutenant Colonel muttered. "Now we find out. Open fire."

A deadly exchange of heavy laser fire ensued between the flagships of both factions. Neither ship appeared to give way at first, but significant damage began to become noticeable on the Cornerian flagship's hull with each successive blast from the overpowered front cannons of the _Phoenix._ The Supreme Commander edgily sat at the helm of his battleship, repeatedly firing the heavy guns and bracing himself whenever the _Cardinal _fired back. The ship's shield meter read 34%, but the Cornerian battleship was not faring near as well. "We have them now," the Commander said with a tense grin.

The husky navigator unexpectedly announced, "Sir, we've detected an anomaly."

"What kind of anomaly, Hansen?" the Commander demanded.

"It seems that we're getting some kind of electromagnetic interference."

"What?"

Suddenly, an earsplitting ripping noise resounded throughout the _Phoenix_ as the entire ship rocked violently.

"WHOA!" yelled the Supreme Commander, frantically activating the ship's emergency reverse thrusters to stop the large craft.

"Massive radar signature detected on the starboard side!" the navigator exclaimed as a huge battleship emerged from the blackness of space and plowed through the _Cardinal _as if it were a toy. The doomed Cornerian flagship split into two pieces; and each half collided with two other Cornerian vessels, causing even more chaos and destruction. Without warning, all electronics onboard the _Phoenix _simultaneously failed, leaving the ship without power. In the darkened bridge, the Ichtosian leader stared aghast at the sight of the unidentified ship which passed in front of him. The angular battleship's hull was painted black with glowing edges that radiated a deep, pulsating shade of blue; and hieroglyphic print was faintly visible on the port side.

"W…what is that thing?" the Commander nervously asked in hopes that someone would be able to answer his question. No reply came from anyone else in the bridge. They were all every bit as terrified as he was. The Supreme Commander watched helplessly as several of his own ships, also without power, slammed head-on into the side of the battleship and exploded into shards of scrap metal. As he looked on at the apparition, now entering the planet's atmosphere, the _Phoenix'_s central computer screen suddenly lit up with a bright red glow and began the re-boot sequence. Random hieroglyphic print appeared on the screen and quickly vanished, followed by a terrifying screaming noise that sounded like the very machinery inside the ship was attempting to speak. The vulpine wanted to ask what was happening, but he was so terrified that he was unable to form coherent words. The ship's interior lighting soon came back on, and the engines powered up once more as everyone on board the _Phoenix_ breathed a collective sigh of relief.

On the planet's surface below, the shockwave created by the mysterious battleship was easily felt, even by the fighter pilots, who attempted to contact their superiors orbiting the planet. There was no reply from anyone. A massive EMP charge fired from the large ship had completely disabled every vessel above the planet expect for the Iridian-constructed _I.S.V._ _Phoenix_, which had somehow managed to repair itself from the catastrophic damage caused by the electromagnetic pulse.

Krystal, thanks to her telepathic abilities, was the first to truly understand the danger of their current situation. "Everyone, there's something out there. I have a bad feeling about this," she anxiously said.

The fighting on the ground and in the air became more dispersed as both armies looked around for the source of the powerful vibrations. The voice of the Ichtosian Supreme Commander soon came over every communicator on both sides of the battle, attempting to warn them of the impending danger which was about to strike.

"_Phoenix_ bridge to anyone able to hear this message—get off Fortuna if possible. Our entire fleet was hit with an EMP and is no longer functional. We encountered an unidentified warship that unexpectedly entered the combat area and is now headed for your position. I repeat—get off Fortuna if you can."

At that very moment, the large black battleship descended through the clouds over Fortuna and began to radiate a strange noise that caused the ears of all nearby to ring badly.

"That guy was right! Get away!" Fox yelled, ordering his wingmen and anyone else able to hear him to clear the area. The fighters quickly scattered and attempted to evacuate the combat airspace, while the ground forces desperately called for an extraction. However, with their fleet under the effects of the EMP as well, no help would ever come. The gigantic battleship began to emit a blue curtain of light from its underside; and although no one knew what it was doing, they all knew that it was something to be avoided at all costs. Fox frantically piloted his fighter away from the battleship, which was moving surprisingly quickly in spite of its prodigious size. The mercenary was so focused on escaping from the enemy ship that he completely ignored an automatic missile turret built into the cliff wall below him. Falco screamed to alert his friend to his peril as the launcher fired two large missiles at Fox's craft. Star Fox's leader frantically tried to evade the incoming ordnances, but was unable to avoid being hit by the missiles launched at close range. Krystal, Slippy, and Falco watched speechlessly as Fox's ship lost control and crashed into the right side of the high cliff wall before dropping into the river below. Surrounded by the rushing water of the powerful river, Fox desperately opened his canopy's manual release and leapt from his sinking fighter into the river. The instant his body hit the water, he realized that the chances of survival were slim. The strong current buried him, pushing him underwater as the vulpine struggled for breath. Air bubbles escaped from his nose while water flooded into his lungs; and he felt his consciousness slowly begin to fade.

"_So this is how I die."_

He thought about his team and how they would react to his passing. He knew Krystal wouldn't be able to handle it. Then again, she had been forced to deal with the extinction of her entire species less than five years ago. Still, who would be there for her when he was gone?

"_I promised to be there for her._"

With the last of his breath, he attempted to force himself up from beneath the surface; and for a split second, he was able to catch a quick breath of life-giving air before he was pushed under again by the unforgiving current. This time, however, he was able to touch the bottom of the riverbed. Knowing that his chances of survival had just increased tenfold, he pushed himself up above the current and quickly spun his head around to see what was ahead of him. He immediately wished he hadn't. Seconds later, he felt himself being flung off the edge of a large waterfall. His limbs flailed wildly as he quickly dropped, and sheer panic filled his mind. He was aware that the foamy water below would lack the surface tension necessary to kill him, but he was terrified at the prospect of possibly landing on a rock. His fears were shortly confirmed. As he fell back-first into the white water below, his left wrist violently struck a large boulder that stuck up out the water. He screamed in pain after surfacing and slowly pulled himself out of the river and onto a nearby riverbank, where he collapsed to the ground. He vomited out the water he had inhaled earlier before rolling onto his back and looking up at the sky. The pain that encompassed his entire body was so great that it almost caused him to cry. In the sky above, he could see the enormous black warship beginning to increase altitude. No other airborne vehicles were visible. He painfully looked over to his left wrist, which was numb by this point, and cursed under his breath upon noticing that his wrist interface had been smashed beyond repair by the jarring impact with the rock. No one would find him now.

"_Krystal, I beg you—please help me, just this once. I've always been there for you. Please, rescue me."_

He prayed that his wrist hadn't been fractured. The last thing he needed was a broken bone to get in his way. With the ship he had first seen on Adalmure now gone, he had two options: either find a detachment of Cornerian troops that could help him, or hope that the strange creature who roamed the woods of Fortuna would find him and take pity on him. Either way, he had to start walking back towards the base. His muscles and bones cried out in pain as he attempted to move, but he ignored them and willed himself to press forward.

* * *

After leaving the atmosphere of Fortuna, the enormous enemy vessel powered away from the planet in front of the _Phoenix_, which had slowed to a stop. Fuming at the loss of what amounted to 80% of his armada, the Commander considered the possibility of launching an attack on the sizeable craft, which was currently in a vulnerable position. He had relinquished the ship's pilot seat back to Captain Hudson, who fearfully stared at the fleeing vessel.

"_It's not that much bigger than my ship_," the Commander thought to himself, "_I_ _think I can take it down_."

The dictator collected himself before he turned to the ship's captain and ordered him to open fire on the ship. The malamute hesitated, unsure of the consequences of following his leader's order to attack a ship they knew next to nothing about.

"If you won't do it, I will!" the Commander roared, furiously shoving the captain out of his chair and pressing the FIRE button. The _Phoenix_ fired upon the fleeing enemy battleship, scoring a powerful hit on the rear half of the craft's starboard side.

"Hit confirmed!"

The Ichtosian dreadnaught fired again, this time dislodging a large chunk of sheet metal from the enemy vessel.

"Huge energy signature detected! No explanation whatsoever!" the _Phoenix's _navigator screamed as the mysterious battleship disappeared from sight with a tremendous shock wave that knocked the Commander out of his seat and displaced equipment in all areas of the ship.

"_What_?" thought the vulpine leader, "_That's impossible! How can they do that? You can't warp without creating a gate! It's scientifically impossible!_"

"The ship won't be able to take much more of that, sir!" said the Captain, badly shaken by the force of the shock.

The Commander knew he was right. Trying to pick a fight with an enemy he was unfamiliar with had not been a smart decision on his part. Suddenly, he realized the grave danger of their situation.

"Move the ship! We're going to be rammed!"

The Captain frantically clawed his way back into his seat and shoved the throttle lever all the way forward, causing the _Phoenix_ to slowly accelerate. Another even more powerful shock wave struck the craft, prompting a warning light to appear on the ship's central display.

_"DANGER: MAIN HULL COMPROMISED—REPAIR IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ENGAGE THE LIGHTDRIVE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES."_

At that moment, the _Phoenix_'s crew felt another impact, but this was not another shockwave—it was a collision. The enemy vessel had re-entered the battle area and caught the Ichtosian battleship with a glancing blow to its rear quarters. If the Supreme Commander had not commanded that the ship be moved, it would have certainly been destroyed.

"Engines 2, 4, and 6 out! We're screwed!" the exasperated captain exclaimed.

The Commander trembled in fear and sheer hatred for his enemy. Losing was not something he took lightly, and now was the worst possible time to lose. He cursed himself for being such a fool and making the regrettable decision to attack. The dictator fearfully glanced out the _Phoenix_'s side window and saw the enemy ship starting to turn around. If his ship took just one hit from the enemy's front cannon, they would _all_ be done for.

"Activate the light drive! We've got to get out of here!" the Commander demanded.

"Sir! We can't do that! The ship won't be able to handle it!"

"I don't care! Just do it!" the Commander furiously replied.

"But sir!"

"Activate the F**king light drive, or we're all going to die! You hear that?!" The Commander drew his handgun and held it to the captain's head, threatening him for his insubordinance. "I suggest that you learn to follow orders, Captain Hudson. NOW GET US OUT OF HERE!"

The captain whimpered as he tepidly engaged the ship's light drive system, still operational despite the battleship having lost three of its seven engines. The _Phoenix _lurched forward before disappearing from the enemy's view in a quick flash of light.


	16. Chapter 16: Survival of the Fastest

**Chapter 16: Survival of the Fastest**

Date and Time: April 19, 10 ALW, 1:12 P.M.

The _Phoenix_ gradually slowed to its normal speed after escaping from the spectral vessel that had rendered both the Cornerian and Ichtosian fleets useless. A soft chiming noise repeated in the bridge, warning its occupants that the hull was severely damaged and would not be able to take much more abuse. Even worse, the ship's onboard computer indicated a significant fuel leak that had already caused its massive plasma reservoirs to diminish greatly. Less than 15% of the ship's fuel remained, and if nothing was done about it, the battleship and its crew would be marooned in the deep reaches of space.

"What are our options, Captain?" the Supreme Commander hoarsely asked.

The malamute captain gravely replied, "The only planet we can reach before our fuel runs out is Corneria."

The Commander bit his lip until it bled. This could not get much worse. He knew that even if he could break through to the planet's surface, he would have little to no chance of escaping capture once in the planet's atmosphere. His ship was far too damaged to launch an attack on Corneria City, and every idea he formulated returned to him void.

"Is there any other option, Captain?"

"No, sir."

The vulpine leader sighed and weakly ordered, "Head to Corneria and attempt a landing in a rural area away from any major cities. I know they exist. There's a huge stretch of nothing but fields about fifty miles outside of Corneria City, and I think that's our best bet. I hope that at least one of the vehicles in the hangar works, because we're sure as hell going to need them if we want any chance of escaping once we land. The Cornerians are going to be all over us once we breach the planet's atmosphere."

"Setting a course for Corneria," Captain Hudson reluctantly complied. "By the way, how do you know any of this?"

The Commander turned and replied, "I grew up on Corneria."

The blue sphere of Corneria soon came into view; and the Commander and the crew of the _Phoenix_ observed the minimalistic orbital defenses surrounding the planet. There was a slight chance that they would be able to slip by and land on the world the Commander hailed from. Only five Cornerian cruisers orbited the planet, and destroying one of them to clear a path would be simple. However, doing such a thing would draw undue attention to the ship whose crew wished to remain undetected for as long as possible. Once the _Phoenix _would breach the atmosphere, there would be no more hiding. Every Cornerian military vehicle for miles around would converge on the battleship's location almost immediately.

"How much fuel do we have left, Captain?" asked the Commander.

"5 percent."

"Very well, then. Break through the gap between those two cruisers. Use all the fuel we've got if we have to."

"Yes, sir."

Captain Hudson pushed the throttle lever forward and began to accelerate the enormous battleship towards the planet. To his dismay, one of the Cornerian warships moved forward to block his path. He only had one option now.

"Open fire!"

The _Phoenix_'s heavy front cannons practically disintegrated the Cornerian vessel as the battleship powered through the wreckage with small pieces of sheet metal ricocheting off its front windows as it passed through the newly-created cloud of metallic debris. The closest Cornerian ship in the immediate vicinity attempted to turn about and launch a counterattack; but by that time, the _Phoenix _had already entered the atmosphere. The Commander nervously braced himself during the passage through the mesosphere and desperately hoped that his ship had enough structural integrity to make it through the flames of the upper atmosphere. As they exited the ionosphere and entered the upper stratosphere of Corneria, all the operational engines on the _Phoenix _died, leaving the ship without power.

Captain Hudson was unfazed. He had trained as a warship pilot for years and was well aware of how to perform an emergency landing. The powerless battleship slowly lost altitude as it sailed over the expansive Cornerian ocean before a huge stretch of wide-open farmland became visible. The malamute pilot skillfully manipulated the gigantic ship's wings and ailerons as the _Phoenix_ slowed and began the landing sequence in the middle of a large wheat field. With very little force or drama, the ship extended its landing gear and softly touched down onto the grassy surface of Corneria. However, now was not the time to celebrate. They had to get moving quickly, or there would be no chance for any of them to escape from the inevitable flood of Cornerian security forces.

The Commander ordered, "Hudson! Find out if there are any vehicles in the hangar that are still functional!"

The malamute complied and sprinted to the hangar, followed closely by the Supreme Commander, who was _not _about to be captured and imprisoned by the Cornerians. He would sooner die than be tortured and confined to some hellish space in a Cornerian D.o.D. cell. The captain and several other troopers in the hangar area began to test all the vehicles contained inside, while the ship's navigator lowered the loading ramp in preparation for the flight for their lives. The news reached the Commander's ears that only three vehicles were still operational after the EMP had fried most of their electronics. The vulpine carefully pondered his choice of vehicle; which was limited to a large tank similar to the one in the hangar on Fortuna, a heavily armored APC, and a lightly armored combat truck with a large Gatling gun mounted on the bed. The Commander quickly selected the heavy truck and jumped into the driver's seat. The engine had already been started, causing the smell of diesel fumes to begin filling the hangar. At the dictator's command, Captain Hudson jumped into the passenger seat of the three-person vehicle, while the jackal who had been sitting next to him in the bridge took the large turret behind them.

All the other soldiers knew that it was every man for himself. There was no law and order in the hangar. The Ichtosian troops mobbed each other for the remaining positions in the APC and the tank while the Supreme Commander floored the camouflage-painted, T-top truck's accelerator and screeched down the grounded _Phoenix's _loading ramp into the fields ahead of him. As he expected, five Cornerian quad-rotor choppers quickly entered the airspace. The APC and the tank raced down the loading ramp in pursuit of the Commander's combat truck and were quickly intercepted by the Cornerian air vehicles. The tank attempted to put up a fight and managed to critically damage one of the lightweight choppers, sending it to the ground in a ball of fire. However, the APC was not so fortunate. The Commander glanced behind him as he shifted gears just in time to see the armored vehicle burst into flames and explode. He knew that the tank wasn't going to last much longer; which meant that soon, all of the attention would be diverted to him. In the distance ahead of him, he saw a dense wooded area, which would be a perfect place to hide from the marauding Cornerian aircrafts. The heavy truck violently bounced across the many bumps and undulations in the seemingly-flat field as two quad-rotors began to target him and his crew of two.

"Take 'em down, Corporal!" the Commander yelled over the noise of the wind and the roaring diesel engine. The female jackal complied and began launching a rapid-fire volley of plasma fire into the skies above. Her accuracy was far from superb, and the truck's harsh ride prevented her from attaining a decent lock on the attacking Cornerian choppers. Realizing this, the Commander slowed the truck down from 95 miles per hour to a slightly steadier 70, allowing the corporal to repeatedly strike one of the choppers. The quad-rotor spun out of control and crashed into the field behind them, violently exploding as its fuel tanks ruptured. Gunfire from the other chopper peppered the hood area of the truck, almost taking Captain Hudson's life. The jackal behind him and the Commander continued to spray plasma into the air, preventing the chopper from effectively targeting the truck which was nearing the forest at a steady rate. The distance to the wooded area was less than half a mile, but after crossing over a particularly severe ridge in the field, Captain Hudson exclaimed, "Commander, look!"

The dictator shot his glare to his right and saw three black stealth fighters quickly bearing down on his position.

"It _would_ be you," he quietly muttered under his breath.

The three fighters screamed directly overhead and quickly began to perform a horizontal loop. The Commander knew exactly what was coming next. Hudson swallowed hard, now seeing the enemy fighters coming directly at them from the front.

"Jump!" the Commander yelled, slamming on the brakes to slow his vehicle to a velocity at which bailing out would be survivable. He and Hudson unbuckled their safety harnesses and dove into a roll, expertly landing in the field and watching the three fighters completely obliterate the combat truck before they passed overhead once again. The female jackal stood up next to the Commander with sheer terror in her blue eyes. In contrast, the Commander's face was completely emotionless, and he was completely unfazed. Now, they were almost within a stone's throw of the woods. Ignoring the threat of any Cornerian air attacks, all three of them frantically sprinted for the trees ahead of them. The quad-rotor came around for another pass, but by that time, all three Ichtosians were safely in the forest. The plasma fire from the chopper ineffectively flashed around them as they dropped into a mostly-dry riverbed and crouched down.

The Commander soberly spoke, "Thank you for your service to me and my cause. I fear that we are the only survivors from the landing. Hudson, Anna—split up and hide yourselves. There are no specifics for this order. We are all on our own now. If you find shelter, you may contact me if I'm still alive; but please realize that you will not receive any benefit from doing so. The invasion has failed. General Venucci will have to pick up the pieces from here. Goodbye, comrades. Oh, and one more thing…"

"Trust your instincts."

* * *

The hours slowly ticked by as the Supreme Commander separated from his two subordinates and forged his own path through the dense woods roughly fifty miles outside the extreme edge of Corneria City. The residents of the seaside agricultural area were mostly farmers, so finding food would be no issue for the dark-furred vulpine. The temperature was a comfortable 75 degrees, and the sun glared through the leafy canopy above him as he continued to move away from the _Phoenix_'s landing site. Surely all of his men had been killed or imprisoned already. They wouldn't have stood a chance against the Cornerian militia and the police force that had been dispatched to deal with them. He looked down at the numerous pins and ranks of insignia on his heavy trench coat and sighed with regret. It was all over. Years of preparation combined with the opportune time to strike—all of it had been shattered by the appearance of a sole battleship. He quietly muttered dark profanities as he looked back on the cataclysmic annihilation of his fleet from that very morning.

"_Who could have possibly been responsible for that ship?" _

His furious thoughts turned to Voltimure. The scientist had always hidden a clouded past that he never revealed to the Commander. The fallen dictator remembered the last words he had heard from him when he reacted unexpectedly to the discovery of the Aparoid virus. "_My word… she's alive."_

"She's alive," he murmured. "Who's _she_? His wife?"

He hated the large lupine for not telling him about the darker points of his past existence. He pictured the sly, smiling face of the Zharon looking back at him with his eternally-innocent stare; and the mental image only infuriated him further.

"It would have been nice to know that you had a deranged killer for a wife, Voltimure!" he angrily yelled into the woods, trying to keep his voice down as not to attract any possible attention to himself.

Soon, the woods began to thin out, and the Commander found himself standing on the edge of a large orange grove. The acres upon acres of fruit trees were a beautiful sight to behold. Each tree was blissfully free of insects and was bursting with color provided by the delicious citrus fruits that hung in bunches from what seemed like every limb. The vulpine reached out his paw and snatched an orange from a nearby tree and peeled it with his sharp claws before biting into the succulent snack and savoring the fresh fruit's abundant flavor. He looked around to make sure that no one was watching him; and to his relief, his eyes found nothing other than orange trees and the wooded area he had just left.

He slowly paced through the enormous expanse of orange trees, admiring the meticulous care that went into making each and every one of them as perfect as possible. In the distance, he was able to finally make out the outline of a homestead, complete with a small, two-story farmhouse and a large red barn to its right. He decided that the barn was most likely the best place to spend the night, which would be coming soon. He checked the sun for a rough estimate of the time because his watch was calibrated for Veratico City Standard Time, and he accurately guessed that it was sometime after 4:00 in the afternoon. Soon, he heard the unmistakable sound of a farm tractor in his vicinity. He looked around for the source of the noise; and after determining that it was to his left, he quickly sprinted away from the sound and skirted the extreme right perimeter of the orange grove to avoid being discovered.

After more than seven minutes of running, he cleared the orange grove and eyed his prize, now only 500 feet away. He could now closely see the white farmhouse, which appeared to have been built long ago. The building had no garage, and an old pickup truck with faded blue paint was parked in the dusty gravel driveway in front of the homestead. The wide doors to the storage barn were open, and the floor was completely vacant. Quickly, the Commander made a break for the large building, which was mainly used to store hay, seed, and farm equipment. Upon setting foot into the barn, he looked around inside for a safe place to hide himself and rest for the night. He heard the sound of the tractor again and looked at his watch, realizing that almost thirty minutes had passed since he had left checked it. He wasn't sure what time it was, but he got the feeling that the farm workers were about to turn in for the day. The dictator knew he wouldn't have much time to hide himself. Spotting a nearby ladder, he quickly climbed it and lay prone in what amounted to a hayloft above the red building's floor. He was well hidden and would only be seen if someone else were to climb the ladder and enter the loft.

The disgraced former leader of Ichtos glanced down at the floor below just as the dull yellow tractor backed into the shed and shut down. His eyes immediately leapt to the figure of the ravishingly beautiful red vixen that had been using it. She wore a blue gingham button-down shirt that was tied up in such a way that her toned midriff was clearly visible, along with a very short pair of faded shorts that appeared to have been jeans at one point before the vixen tore off the legs. Her tail was so thick and fluffy that the Commander wanted to leap from his cover just to fondle his face with it; and her long, black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Shortly, though, she let her hair fall naturally down to her shoulder line, causing a quick drop of saliva to leak out of the Commander's mouth. He had seen her for all of fifteen seconds, but he was already completely enraptured by her.

Before long, the vixen closed up the shed and locked the Commander inside, without having the slightest clue that he was even there. Inside the now-darkened barn, the former dictator began to think of how he could find his way into her life without giving away his identity. He unhappily admitted that she would almost certainly recognize him as the Supreme Commander of Icthos based on pictures of him she had doubtlessly seen from Cornerian news sources. Worse yet, what if she had a boyfriend—or heaven forbid—a _husband_? The thought made his skin crawl. For the first time in his life, he was angry that he had chosen to attack the Cornerians; because that decision may have made winning the love of the beautiful farming vixen impossible. He spent the night tossing and turning in the hayloft, unable to find rest with the thoughts of the farm girl in his mind. She was so beautiful—more so than anyone he had ever seen before. The Commander wanted her so badly that he angrily punched the boards below him with so much force that his wrist began to bleed. He didn't sleep at all that night.

The next morning, he heard the barn doors swing open and watched the same beautiful vixen step into the building and climb onto the tractor before starting the stubborn machine and driving out of the barn. The Commander knew he had at least until lunch to find out more about her. He was willing to risk his temporary security for just a bit of information. He had to find out if she was available.

While the vixen labored in the orange grove, the Commander cautiously crept over to her house and opened the unlocked front door. He waited for any kind of movement-related noise to reach his ears, but none came. He removed his boots and tiptoed around the house, fearfully peering around each and every corner in an attempt to ascertain that the red vixen lived by herself. To this point, everything he had seen had proved this hypothesis to be correct. He carefully stepped into the vixen's large master bedroom, which contained a king-sized white bed with elaborate floral patterns on the bedspread. His thoughts quickly wandered to a mental image of what he would like to be doing in that bed; but for the moment, he blocked the obtrusive and premature thought and observed the room.

Several pictures adorned the heavy wooden nightstand, which also contained a large white lamp and a leather-bound book that appeared to be religious in nature. The Commander eyed the two pictures and smiled. They were old photographs of what appeared to be the vixen's mother and father. He dug through her nightstand's drawers, trying to find any evidence of another lover in her life; but instead of finding any evidence of a romance, he found a will that had left the homestead and the orange farm to her alone. He realized that both her mother and father were dead. Tears welled up in his eyes as he placed the yellowed sheet of paper back in the nightstand and closed the drawer before he dropped to his knees in front of the bed and bawled his eyes out. She had lost both of her parents—just like him.

* * *

Date and Time: June 1, 4 BLW, 12:03 P.M.

The 16-year-old Stephen Farris entered the Cornerian Flight Academy's cafeteria, carrying his bagged lunch in his right paw. His two closest friends, a silver feline named Gray and a foreign-born timber wolf known as Kristoff, waved for him to come and sit down with them at the end of the table near the vending machine.

"Over here, Stevie! I bought a drink for you!" the tabby hollered over the excessive noise in the room filled with over three hundred students from both the Flight Academy and the adjacent Military Academy. Stephen took a seat across from his friends next to Kristoff's wolf girlfriend Tasha and gladly accepted Gray's cup of cola.

Kristoff remarked, "I can't believe your dad won't pay for your drinks, Stephen. For a billionaire, he's pretty bloody cheap." Even though the fox knew that his lupine friend was right, he appreciated his adopted parent's kindness. Farris was left on the doorsteps of a Cornerian orphanage by his mother who couldn't afford to care for him; and he remained at the orphanage until the age of 14, when he was adopted by the successful vulpine business tycoon Victor Farris, who almost immediately enrolled him the prestigious Flight Academy after seeing his adopted son express interest in becoming a fighter pilot.

Back in the lunch room, Stephen replied to his friend's remark. "Kris, did you ever think that he has that kind of money because he hates spending it? I'm sure glad he doesn't. It _is_ my inheritance after all."

"Oh, good grief," Gray whined. "Not more about how you're going to inherit 5 billion credits in liquid assets after ol' Farris kicks the bucket! Stop it before I get envious—eh… it's too late. Screw you, Stevie."

Farris laughed at his envious friend along with Kristoff and Tasha before changing the topic and asking Gray, "So, how was aeronautics class today?"

The feline rolled his eyes and shook his head in disgust at the difficult class which he hated with a passion. "It was a bitch, as always. You know how much I hate that class. You're lucky you took it last year, 'cause your teacher was actually easy to understand. Mr. Yeager can't seem to explain anything without using logarithmic expressions, and math's not my thing."

"Can't say it's mine, either," replied Farris, taking a sip of his drink before unwrapping his sandwich.

"What'd you get today?" Kristoff eagerly asked. "I'll trade you for it."

Farris snickered and quickly shot down the lupine's offer. "Come on, Kris! You don't think I know that the school's steak rolls are total crap, do you?"

The wolf scowled in frustration, resigning himself to the unappetizing wrap in front of him. As Stephen took the first bite of his sandwich, a female rabbit who worked in the office tapped him on the shoulder and told him, "Someone's here to see you, Stephen. He said it was really important that you talk to him immediately."

Stephen simply replied "Okay" to the secretary's announcement, put his sandwich down, and told his friend, "Kris, you can have the rest. Looks like my lunch just got jacked."

The wolf hungrily shoved the food into his jaws as Farris left the cafeteria and traversed the school's main hall until he arrived at the office where his adopted father was seated, checking the stocks and the weather from his tablet.

"What is it, Dad?" Farris asked; none too pleased after having is lunch cut off early.

The sharply-dressed elder fox stood up and placed a paw on his son's shoulder. "I just got your DNA test results back. You always wanted to know who your real parents were, so I had someone find out for you. Have a look here."

The businessman handed his son the four pieces of paper showing the results of the thorough genetic test that traced his lineage back through five generations of records. Stephen flipped the pages eagerly, looking at the figures that indicated his paternal family's origin and his vulpine subspecies before finally arriving at the last page, which listed his parents and grandparents. Cornerian I.D. pictures were printed beside the names of his immediate ancestors, a beautiful vixen named Miriam Walker and a fox who went by the name of _James McCloud_.

Stephen Farris dropped the papers on the floor in shock and looked at his adopted father, exclaiming, "You can't be serious! My dad's the best pilot in the Lylat System? I…I don't know what to say!"

"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" said the elder Farris, putting his left paw on Stephen's shoulder again. "Would you like to meet him?"

The thought of meeting his birth father, who had turned out to be the highly respected and skilled James McCloud, was so thrilling to Stephen that he couldn't contain his excitement. "You can arrange that? I'd love to meet him!"

"I'll call the general's office and set up an appointment so you can talk, just the two of you. I'm glad the mystery is over," said Victor Farris, standing and throwing his leather shoulder bag over his right shoulder. "I've got to run, but I'll put in that call this afternoon. I'll let you know more about it after school. Oh, by the way; I know you're excited, but I wouldn't tell anyone just yet. We don't know how your father will react to you."

Stephen spent the rest of the day waiting expectantly for the closing bell to ring and allow him to move one step closer to meeting his father, who was unaware that he had sired two sons. As far as he knew, Fox was his only child. After what seemed like an eternity, school was dismissed for the day. The dark-furred fox walked out to the school's student parking area and unlocked his small car, where his two friends and Kristoff's girlfriend Tasha were waiting for him.

Gray turned to Stephen and commented, "Hey Stevie—you wanna come over to my place and hang out for with us for a while? It's going to be great. I just got that new gaming system yesterday and I'd like for you to try it out with us. What do you say, buddy?"

Normally, Stephen would be all over an idea like that; but today, other things were occupying his mind. Reluctantly, he turned down the invitation with a disappointed frown. "Sorry, Gray. I've got plans for the evening. I'll make it up to you sometime later if I can convince my dad to let you guys over."

Gray sourly remarked, "Yeah, like that'll ever happen. Take care of yourself, Stevie. Sorry you couldn't make it."

As his friends walked away from his vehicle, Stephen climbed into the compact and started the engine before heading back to the Farris family's old mansion, now more than one hundred years of age. After he had opened the manor's gothic-styled gates and parked his car in the climate-controlled garage, Stephen walked up the long, rustic flight of stairs to the building's main level, where he found the elder Farris sitting in front of the guest bar in the kitchen. Sadness and disappointment were written all over the elderly fox's features. Something had clearly not gone to plan.

"What happened, Dad?" Stephen asked, now concerned that he might not get to meet his father.

The old businessman soberly answered, "I called General Pepper's office and got in touch with him just like I said I would. It seems… well—I think something's happened to your father. He might be… dead."

"WHAT?!" Stephen screamed loudly enough to create an echo in the expansive structure as his adopted father motioned for him to calm down.

"Listen, Stephen. General Pepper told me that James and his two wingmen were sent to Venom yesterday on a mission that he wasn't allowed to elaborate on yet. Only one of your father's wingmen made it back. Radio contact with James was lost on Venom, and the official report is that he was shot down by the other pilot.

"Damn that filthy bastard!" Stephen roared.

"It gets worse, son," continued Victor Farris, "According to public records, your mother Miriam was killed in a fiery car wreck five years ago. I'm sorry, Stephen. I had my hopes up, too."

In his anger and sadness resulting from the unexpected deaths of his birth parents, Stephen began to cry. "I wish I had never known about them," he sobbed, "It would have been better if they were always a mystery. That way, they could always be alive to me—somewhere, waiting for me to come home to them."

The old fox stood up and embraced his adopted son whose heart had been broken to pieces. "Stephen, I don't know why things happen the way they do, but I'll be with you every step of the way to help you get through this."

Stephen sobbed even harder as he replied, "Thanks, Dad. I love you."

Stephen found it impossible to sleep that night. He tossed and turned in his luxurious bed, unable to relax after what had transpired earlier. He wanted to turn to his adopted father for comfort, but he knew that he was asleep and didn't want to be bothered. With his door locked and the shades drawn down over his windows to block the intrusive moonlight, the dark-furred fox turned on the lamp resting on the nightstand next to his bed and snatched up a paperback book that lay beneath the light.

Stephen opened the work to the page he had bookmarked with a #2 pencil and began to read through the pages detailing the honor and valor required to be a soldier of true character. "_So rare these days_," he thought. After five decades of near-excessive prosperity, the amount of greed on Corneria was beginning to spiral out of control. Power-hungry politicians and shrewd businessmen were the main culprits, but the military was not exempt from the selfish epidemic. Many of the so-called troopers in the employment of the Cornerian military were only there because the job paid well and offered decent benefits, along with free medical insurance. Mercenaries were beginning to sneak into the military at this time, as well. In the past, the thought of hiring greedy, filthy hired soldiers to fight their battles for them was despised; but now, it had become an everyday operation for the mighty Cornerian war machine.

Unfortunately, with the increase in the quantity of troops came the decline in quality as well. Although the Cornerian Defense Forces were enormous in number, the skill level of the average soldier was far below what should have been acceptable. In this day and age, it wasn't uncommon for cadets to be promoted to previously-unheard of ranks before they were even able to buy alcohol. The young Stephen Farris read on, completely oblivious to what was taking place below him. The light in his room suddenly cut off without reason.

"_Must be that stupid breaker again_," Stephen thought as he slid out of bed in his pajamas and unlocked the door. The young fox walked out into the third-story hallway, where he noticed that the air conditioning wasn't functioning, either. Even the soft lighting which Victor Farris always left on had been shut off. This was no breaker fault—something was wrong. For some reason, the power to the entire house had either been shut down or completely cut off. Farris listened closely with his sensitive ears and was able to hear several sets of swift, quiet footsteps ascending the staircase to the second level. Instinctively, Stephen ran back into his room and locked the heavy mahogany door behind him. He didn't dare make any noise for fear that the intruders would find and kill him. Stephen had never been instructed on how to act in such a scenario, as it was assumed that the premises' advanced security systems would deter any attempt at a break-in.

Minutes passed in silence until a gunshot shattered the silent air of the mansion. Farris's heart skipped a beat at the sound, which was immediately followed by the quick opening and closing of the front door. Thinking quickly, the young Farris pulled open his curtains and looked out into the moonlit night. Five armed figures, all dressed in black, were standing in the open front yard waiting for something. Thirty seconds later, a matte-black gunship descended to the grassy surface and evacuated the invaders, hardly making any noise in the process. On the side of the gunship was a large letter 'Y' printed in white, with the word 'Upsilon' written below it.

With the intruders gone, Stephen flung open his door and ran to his father's room, where he found the old fox lying on the floor, covered in blood from a single gunshot to the head. With his emotions running high, Farris forced himself to take a forensic view of the situation before him. The entry and exit wounds were too "perfect" to have been caused by a ballistic round, which meant that the lethal shot had been fired from a laser-based weapon. No—that couldn't be right. Laser weapons were illegal for civilian use. Because they didn't fire bullets which could be used to trace a shooter's DNA, laser firearms were perfect for assassinations and the like, which had lead Cornerian legislators to ban the technology for civilian use.

Farris thought, "_Surely they were all criminals_!" but as much as he wanted to deny it, all evidence indicated otherwise. There were only two possibilities here—his adopted father had either been killed by a pack of mercenaries or by the Cornerian Army itself. It was then that he noticed a half dollar-sized pin lying on the ground next to his deceased guardian. Farris picked up the small item and held it up to the moonlight flooding the room, trying to read the inscription on the pin. The small brooch had the imprint of a dragon on it with an inscription below it that read, "ONYX" in the Old Lylat tongue.

A week following the deaths of both his biological father and his legal father, Farris graduated from the Flight Academy at 16 as part of the school's accelerated program. After the elaborate graduation ceremony, Stephen refused to attend an after party with his friends and shunned all company. He drove away from the Academy with his diploma in the seat next to him, his mind made up on joining the Army the next day. That piece of paper was his ticket to a new life.

Fast forward four years to the fierce battle against Andross and the Venomian Army at the beginning of Fox McCloud's mercenary career. In the few short years Stephen McCloud-Farris had been a member of the Cornerian Army, he had quickly climbed through the ranks and was now the leader of the second squadron belonging to Corneria's fourth space fighter division. His natural aptitude for air and space combat had been described as "unusual" and "gifted beyond belief" by superiors and petty officers alike.

At 11:30 P.M. on Corneria, Master Sergeant Farris and his unit landed their Cornerian M-Class ships on the tarmac runway of the Cornerian military complex on the outskirts of the damaged capital city. Andross' forces had dealt the city a damaging blow, but it was nothing the Cornerians couldn't recover from. While his wingmen headed for their bunks after a grueling day in the pilot's seat fighting in the battle of Katina, Farris hit the showers. The skirmish over the arid planet had been stressful and intense, and the sergeant felt the need to wash the perspiration from his dark red fur. The Lieutenant General—a sour-tempered eagle named Graves—and the rest of the Cornerian higher-ups frowned upon excessive usages of water and long periods spent in the showers, but an extensive, relaxing soak was just what Farris needed.

After thoroughly scrubbing his fur and making sure that every trace of combat-induced sweat had been removed, Farris seated himself in the curtained shower stall and crossed his legs. This was needless indulgence on his part, but he didn't care. With his back against the white enclosure, the sergeant closed his eyes and let the warm water run over his shoulders. Sadly for Farris, the water rationing system recognized that he was wasting water and cut off the shower, ending his short-lived nirvana.

After stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist, he noticed a muscular husky with a black emblem tattooed on his right shoulder trying to hurriedly dry his thick fur. Farris stared at the dog's inked design, which was uncannily familiar to the imprint on the pin he had found next to his dead adopted father. The husky knew that Farris was staring at him, but he pretended to ignore him as he quickly pulled on his black pants and threw his black combat jacket onto his broad shoulders without even bothering to put his shirt on underneath. He was obviously late for something important.

"Pardon me," he nervously said to Farris as he sprinted for the bathroom's exit, slipping on the wet floor and almost slamming into a nearby sink. The husky's tattooed emblem had piqued the sergeant's interest. In haste, he buckled his combat pants, pulled on his basic gray t-shirt, and slipped into his large pilot boots before following the husky's trail out of the room. Even though the unfamiliar trooper had left the bathroom area thirty seconds earlier than Farris, his wet boot prints were obvious on the metallic gray floors of the base. After following the tracks through several hallways, Farris saw the dog open a door at the end of the hallway and step through. The door didn't stay open long, but it was just long enough for the sergeant to catch a quick glimpse of several black-suited soldiers, each dressed exactly like his father's killers.

The last thing he saw before the door closed was the unmistakable figure of Lieutenant General Graves reprimanding Captain Bruno Hartmann for his lack of punctuality. Farris couldn't believe it—his innocent father had been brutally murdered by official soldiers of Corneria belonging to a clandestine special ops unit. This was the last straw. No longer would he allow himself to be tricked into believing that the Cornerian government and its military had the greater good of its people in mind.

The next day, Farris and his unit were dispatched to Zoness to end a conflict with the Venom Army on the affluent resort world and were traveling through Sector Y on a course to pass Aquas. The time for Farris to make his decision had come.

The vulpine bitterly spoke to his wingmen, "My friends, it's been a great pleasure serving with you, but I cannot allow you to live." With his comrades in shock, Farris slammed on his fighter's brakes and fell in behind his allies' fighters, gunning down each and every one of them in rapid succession. Not one of them survived. The strange disappearance of the 2nd squadron and the charismatic S.M. Farris was a mystery that would haunt the Cornerian Army for years to come.

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

_Well, look at that- this story now has over 3,000 views. Not bad. If you like the _Iridium Chronicle_ and my writing in general, you might be interested in my other active story called _6 Days and 23 Hours. _It's a tragic story centered around Kursed and her desire to reach out to Fox before she succumbs to an unfortunate disease and dies.__ Very emotionally gripping, if I do say so myself.  
_

_Even though I'm more of a writer than a reader, I am always on the lookout for good stories, especially ones that push convention and dare to be different. If you'd like, you can go through my favorites list and see if anything there catches your eye. Normally, I don't plug stories, but I highly recommend _The Cerinian Earth_ by Order and Chaos- Qui Iudicant. It's a very interesting read; and you might like it, especially if you're not afraid of unmitigated originality._  



	17. Chapter 17: No Other Option

**Chapter 17: No Other Option**

Date and Time: April 20, 10 ALW, 7:24 A.M.

Krystal stood alone on her hotel room's balcony, looking out over the city. Her lightweight pink nightgown fluttered in the wind of the cool Cornerian morning as the sun began to ascend into the sky from across the horizon. Yesterday had been a hard day for the vixen. Not only had thousands of lives been lost; but so had Fox's. She was unaware that he had survived his crash into the river on Fortuna and therefore believed that he had passed on, never to return again—never to embrace or love her again. A tear streaked down her cerulean face and dropped onto the stone railing she was leaning on.

"_Why is this happening to me?"_

Unlike before, no answer came. The only sounds that could be heard were the noises made by the vehicles below. The skies above her were as silent as the grave. After Cornerian security forces had examined the _Phoenix's_ passenger log, they discovered that the Supreme Commander was on board; and after failing to find his body with those of the other soldiers that had been killed after landing on the planet, they assumed him to be at large. Secretive intelligence agents had already begun to make the rounds in the rural area in which he had landed; going from door to door and examining each and every household for traces of the rogue vulpine. To prevent any possible means for his escape, General Graves had ordered all space traffic to or from the planet to come to a halt. With every available ship now blockading the planet, Corneria was under lockdown. Curfews were being observed following the loss of what amounted to 85% of the Cornerian defense fleet, with 10:00 P.M. being the latest anyone was allowed outside. In the midst of all the chaos surrounding the Lylat System, Krystal knew deep inside that the time had come for her to leave for Iridium. First, though, she would go back to Fortuna and locate Violet, who could show her where to find the planet. That is, if she could somehow find a way off Corneria. No one was allowed to enter or leave the planet for any reason whatsoever.

Krystal sighed and walked into the bathroom in preparation for a warm bath that she hoped would soothe her worries and at least temporarily take away her pain. After the large white tub had been completely filled, the vixen retrieved her booklet of Cerinian prophecies and slipped into the water before activating the tub's spa feature. She leaned back against the bathtub's faux leather headrest and held the brown pamphlet in front of her with both paws. Once again, she turned to its final page and attempted to decipher the cryptic text at the bottom. This time, however, something clicked; and she could finally comprehend the hieroglyphics. In Lylatian, the message translated to, "Aeon, your time has come."

Krystal quickly closed the booklet and tossed it to the floor. She felt chills run across her entire body, even though the water temperature in the bath was steaming hot. What she had never explained to Fox was that her Lylatian name was a homonym of the Cerinian word that directly translated to 'era' or 'eon.'

She knew immediately that the prophetic writing was a specific reference to her. 'Krystal' was a rare name on Cerinia, where most children's names were based on favorable attributes such as joy, love, courage, and faith. The atypical name was chosen for the second daughter of the Cerinian royal line because she had been born in the final hours of the Cerinian five thousand year 'cycle of life,' as they called it. Most Cerinians believed that after this date, significant changes to the universe would occur and usher in the final era of existence.

Nine years after she was born, an offworlder who identified himself arrived as "Andross Oikonny" set foot on the planet and proceeded to perform a series of tests on the planet's ecosystem; assuring the innocent natives that it was all for their benefit. The ape's stay on the planet culminated with the unexplained deaths of both of Krystal's parents, who more than likely discovered the true motives for Andross's visit and attempted to stop him from continuing his corrupt research. Whatever it was that had taken place, they were found bleeding out on the floor of their palace, dead. Krystal never emotionally recovered from losing her parents, even though her loving aunt and uncle did their best to care for the young Cerinian girl and her older sister who was destined for the throne of Cerinia's largest and most influential tribe. After completing her people's ritualistic combat training and celebrating her milestone eighteenth birthday, she packed her bags and left Cerinia, hoping to find answers related to her parents' deaths elsewhere in the galaxy. She took her family's royal transport craft and traveled far and wide across the vast expanse of space, finding nothing related to death of her immediate ancestors. For over a year, she vainly searched until she tearfully gave up and returned to Cerinia, only to find that it was no longer there. Not long after that, she heard a cry for help coming from a distant planet on the edge of a system called Lylat. The rest was history.

In the bathtub back in her hotel room, she sighed and reflected back on everything she knew about the planet's destruction. There was very little evidence that was concrete, and it could only be assumed that the demise of Cerinia had been caused by the results of Andross's experiments. She tried to distance herself from her thoughts, but the one memory of Fox crashing into the river on Fortuna and drowning continued to besiege her mind. She missed him so much already, and it had only been one day since he left her and the rest of his team. The war with the Ichtosians was over for now, and the remaining enemy fighters that had taken part in the Battle of Fortuna had already fled the Lylat System. This was not at all the way she had imagined the war would end. However, she knew better than to believe that all was safe—not when the murderess she had encountered on Adalmure was prowling the galaxy in a warship of monumental size. That ship had completely obliterated both the Cornerian and Ichtosian armadas without firing a single shot.

Krystal breathed deeply and groaned after realizing what had to be done. Somehow, she had to find a way through the blockade and travel to Iridium at all costs. Her Seraph was the fastest Cornerian space fighter on record, but she wondered if it would be enough for her to be able to slip past the bristling armaments of the Cornerian defense ships. More specifically, she needed to be certain that it could outrun a missile launched from a Cornerian cruiser. Only one person she knew would be able to help her know for certain.

Determined to leave the planet is spite of the executive order from the General, Krystal stepped out of the bath, dried herself, and slipped into the blue jumpsuit she had worn during the Aparoid conflict. She picked up her staff, her purse, and her hotel card before leaving the room and taking the nearby city train to the Cornerian military base. She flashed her Star Fox I.D. to the gate operator, who waved her into the sprawling complex, where Slippy was most likely at work with his Bullfrog. Ever since he had taken delivery of it, he had been obsessed with making as many improvements to it as possible. Already, he had added an additional laser cannon, improved the maneuverability, and modified the onboard circuitry to draw more power from the battery.

Krystal stepped into Star Fox's dedicated hangar and smiled at the sight of the frog working underneath his fighter. Slippy quickly noticed the vixen and turned his attention to her.

"Hey, Krystal! What are you doing here?" he happily asked.

She took a quick look at her Seraph before returning her gaze to Slippy. "Slippy, I need your help," she pleaded.

"Sure," he replied, "What do you need help with?"

"I need my ship to be faster."

Slippy seemed bothered by her response. It didn't make sense to him why she would need to increase the maximum speed of what was already the fastest fighter available to the Cornerian Army. "Wha…? How much faster do you need it to be?"

The vixen narrowed her eyes and coldly asked, "How fast is a missile?"

Slippy immediately realized what she was attempting to do and gasped, "Krystal! What are you thinking? You'll be killed, and if I help you with this and General Graves finds out about it, I'll be in big trouble!"

"If you get in trouble, I'll take full responsibility for it," she soberly replied. "I just need to know if it's possible to make my ship any faster."

"Let me take a look," Slippy anxiously spoke, slowly walking over to the nearby Seraph and opening the hull-mounted battery cavity on the bottom of the ship. Quickly, he emerged from under the fighter with a tense expression on his face and said to Krystal, "It might be possible. You've got a class-12 battery in there.

Krystal looked perplexed. "What does that mean?" she asked.

"I'll explain," he replied, "With a normal battery, the engine charges it, then the battery uses that power to operate the ship's electronics. With a class-12," he paused, "The battery re-routs power back to the engine to supercharge it, so to speak. That explains why your fighter is so darn fast already. If I can get my hands on another one, I might be able to wire it in series with the one that's in there already."

"Where can we find another one?" Krystal enthusiastically asked.

"That's just the problem," Slippy explained, "They're very expensive; and normally, only the shipbuilders can buy them. However…"

"What, Slippy?"

"The _Great Fox_ had ten of them. There's bound to be one in the old bridge. We might be able to use that," he replied.

"Great! Let's go get it, then!" Krystal enthusiastically replied.

"There's just one problem, though…"

"What?"

The frog explained, "The old bridge is in a Cornerian weapons storehouse on the perimeter of the base. I could ask Peppy to give me the keys, but then he'd get suspicious and try to find out what I'm up to."

"What kind of lock does the building have?" Krystal asked.

Slippy raised his hands to his eyes and shook his head in despair. "Please, don't do it, Krystal! It'll only get you in trouble!"

"I asked you a question, Slippy," she harshly spoke.

Finally admitting defeat and realizing that the vixen could not be swayed, he nervously replied. "It's a four-digit master lock. You could break it with a bolt cutter."

"Thanks, Slippy," said Krystal with a sad expression that showed that she was not pleased with what she was now forced to do.

The vixen clambered up into the open cockpit of her Seraph and pulled out her blaster, which she kept inside the fighter because she was not authorized to bring it with her into her hotel room. She then raided the nearby tool chest and removed a large, heavy bolt cutter before cautiously leaving the building and stepping out onto the large concrete pad outside Star Fox's hangar. Far to her left was a solitary corrugated building that marked the location of the valuable battery she needed to obtain. Trying to seem naïve, Krystal calmly strode across the open concrete surface of the military complex. Several tanks and APCs crossed her path on her way to the warehouse; but to her relief, none of them stopped to ask what she was doing.

She finally arrived at the warehouse's large vertically-opening garage door and glanced at the lock Slippy had told her about. After looking over both shoulders to make sure that no one was watching her, she clamped down on the bolt cutter and shattered the sturdy lock. She quickly tossed the ruined metallic device to the ground and pulled open the garage door. Once inside, she closed the door to mask her presence in the building. The Cerinian gazed around the poorly-lit room, which was only illuminated by the light coming in through the narrow windows on the tops of the walls.

Various pieces of Cornerian military equipment lay scattered haphazardly the room, but it didn't take Krystal very long to locate the bridge which had formerly been part of the _Great Fox_. That ship had been her first home since the loss of her homeworld; and she dearly missed it, even though it was merely a machine. She ran her soft eyes over the dust-covered shell of the bridge, which was placed on the floor in the back of the building. The battery she needed was somewhere in there, but she didn't know where it would be found. However, she knew that Slippy would. Without hesitation, she spoke into her wrist unit, "Slippy, I'm in. Where can I find this battery?"

The frog's voice crackled through her communicator. "I think it should be inside a panel on the side. You don't need a screwdriver or anything—it should open if you pull up on it."

Krystal thanked the mechanic and closed off her communications line before she carefully stepped around a rack of missiles and knelt down next to the bridge where the battery panel was located. A small, thin band of yellow and black strips adorned the top edge of the battery cavity, which swung out and up as she pulled on it, just like Slippy had said it would.

She smiled at the sight of the untouched battery inside. The writing on the said read, "Haulsin C-12 Heavy Duty Battery," and it looked to be quite heavy. She knew that car batteries usually weighed at least fifty pounds, and she shuddered to think about how much this unit would weigh. Using the bolt cutter, she managed to carefully manipulate the connectors until they were loosed from the battery. Ignoring the black battery contaminants that would inevitably stain her blue suit, she reached in and grabbed it with both arms, pressing it into her chest in an attempt to engage more of her muscle groups to make the lift easier. She whimpered in pain while trying to carry the extreme weight of the battery; and realizing that she would be unable to hold onto it much longer, she tried to gently drop it onto the floor. Unfortunately, it fell to the ground with a loud crash that caused several metallic rods nearby to rattle. She moaned and whimpered in distress, knowing that there was no chance of her being able to bring the battery back to her Seraph without the use of a conspicuous vehicle. She could try to enlist Slippy's help, but she knew that he would be too concerned about General Graves finding out about his actions to be of any assistance to her. Crushed and despondent, she dropped to her knees in despair and punched the heavy black battery in anger.

"You stupid thing!" she cried. "Why do you have to be so heavy?"

She thought about the possibility of being able to break through the blockade without the additional power this battery would provide. Could it happen? The SFX Seraph was, after all, very fast—but was it quick enough for her to escape from a barrage of missiles directed at her? She didn't think that she would be able to make it without the help of the 100-pound battery that sat in front of her.

She realized that her complaining wasn't going to get her any closer to Iridium. Filled with frustration, she unhappily scoured the room for anything she could use to transport the battery more easily. To her relief, she found a small yellow cart with six small wheels and a movable grip which would make pulling items easier. Jerking the trolley over the various forms of shrapnel that littered the floor, she put it next to the battery and heaved the heavy object onto the small cart's flat yellow loading surface. One of the wheels was unresponsive, but it would have to do. As quietly as possible, Krystal pulled the cart out of the building and shut the corrugated door behind her.

Minutes later, Krystal triumphantly re-entered Star Fox's hangar with the C-12 battery, much to Slippy's dismay. He had thought that once she found out how heavy the battery was, she would give up on using it. However, he had been proven wrong.

"Come on, Slippy! Let's put this battery in!"

"Okay," he nervously replied, "But I have to cut out a new panel in the bottom of your fighter to make it fit."

"Do whatever you have to do, Slippy," she firmly said.

After a half-hour of cutting into the Seraph's fuselage, Slippy and Krystal collectively hefted the large battery into the fighter. Slippy quickly connected it and asked for the vixen to climb aboard and perform a very basic test for the sole purpose of making sure that the fighter would start. Krystal lithely clambered up her fighter's sleek upper wing and swung herself down into her cockpit before priming the ignition and firing the ship's engines.

"It works!" Slippy yelled over the sound of the Seraph's powerful engines. His gleeful expression quickly saddened at the realization that she was about to leave the hangar and attempt to break through the blockade. Surprisingly, though, she turned the fighter off and jumped out of the cockpit instead.

"W…what are you doing, Krystal?"

"I need one more favor, Slippy," she soberly replied, dropping from the Seraph's wing onto the hangar floor.

"What is it this time?"

"I need the trackers and the comm lines removed completely. I don't want anyone tracking me," she explained.

"Krystal!"

"Slippy, just do it."

The amphibian reluctantly agreed and quickly began to take the dashboard assembly apart in order to access the communication lines and the onboard tracking device. Soon enough, he had sliced the wires to both and removed them. He carelessly tossed them out of the cockpit next to where Krystal was standing, causing the tracking device to shatter on the ground.

"There you go, Krystal," he said with sorrow apparent in his voice. "Please, be careful. I don't want you to die, too."

"I don't think I will, Slippy," she contemplatively replied. "But you might not see me for a very long time. Just in case, I want to tell you how thankful I am to have you as a teammate. No one gives you enough credit for what you do for the team."

"Aww—thanks, Krystal," the frog emotionally replied.

Krystal moved forward and tightly hugged Slippy, thanking him for risking his position to help her reach Iridium. Then, she slowly climbed up her fighter's wing and dropped into her pilot's seat before firing the engines and closing the canopy. Slippy sadly looked on as Krystal waved goodbye to her friend and teammate before the SFX Seraph slowly left the hangar and disappeared into the clear skies of Corneria.

Her fighter rapidly gained altitude as she prepared to exit Corneria's atmosphere. She knew that the control tower was attempting to contact her and dissuade her from leaving the planet; but with her communications unit no longer operational, there was nothing they could do to reach her. The Seraph burst through the flames of the mesosphere into the upper regions of Corneria's atmosphere, where Krystal began to see the large group of the surviving Cornerian warships slowly circling the planet.

It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, the vixen pushed the throttle lever all the way forward. The throttle response was so immense that the ship's G-diffuser system struggled to compensate for the vicious thrust imparted by the supercharged engines that were now being fed by two batteries. Instead of emitting the hollow howling noise they normally created, the ship's engines screamed with a ferocity the vixen had never witnessed before.

Krystal watched out of the corner of her eye as three missiles began to track her. The Seraph's alarm system blared at her, warning the blue pilot that projectiles were inbound on her position. She made no attempt to maneuver out of their way. She could only hope that her ship's newfound power would allow her to escape unscathed. Rows and rows of Cornerian military vessels flashed by her as more missiles joined in the chase. Krystal smiled, realizing that the missiles were failing to close in on her fighter as she broke through the final line of defense and shot out into the vast expanse of space. She had done it. All that remained for her to do was to pick up Violet on Fortuna and head for the enigmatic world she had heard about in her dreams.

After setting a course for Fortuna and placing the Seraph on autopilot, she lounged back in the fighter's comfortable blue leather pilot's seat and smiled. It felt strangely good to be free of Corneria, but she wasn't sure why. She finally began to understand how Fox felt about the planet not being the same as it used to be. The war with the Aparoids and the arrival of the Ichtosian Assault Force had shattered whatever was left of the carefree, peaceful spirit that formerly encompassed the planet; leaving in its wake a harsh, cold, steely grasp of iron.

Krystal reflected back on Fox's 'death,' once again mentally replaying the image of his Arwing crashing into the river. She wanted to cry and scream for him to somehow return to her, but she had already done that; and she knew that Fox would have wanted her to move on without him. In death, he would no longer have to agonize over the loss of his parents. Instead, he would probably be able to be with them forever in the afterlife. Krystal thought about her own set of parents and pondered the same thing. Except in particularly terrifying moments, she never feared death, because she had been taught on Cerinia that death was not something to be afraid of. It was the possibility of a _painful_ death that frightened her.

With Fox gone, she felt that she had nothing left to lose. She was a friend to Falco, Slippy, and Peppy; but none of their friendships could even remotely compare to her bond with Star Fox's leader. She looked back on Fox's unexpected proposal to her in the forests of Fortuna and shed two small tears at the thought. At least he had finally built up the courage to ask. Still, she was broken and unsatisfied, because there was no one other than Fox that she would have wanted to have children with. She couldn't imagine herself with any man other than him. Fox was much more to her than a romantic partner or a friend—he was her unspoken brother; her guardian; her source of encouragement in times of trouble.

With Corneria now far behind her and completely out of sight, Krystal wondered if she would ever come back to the planet again. Surely General Graves would vilify her after discovering that she had disobeyed the order to remain on the planet. "_It doesn't matter,_" she told herself. She had become comfortable and familiar with life on Corneria, but her joy from living on the planet came from Fox. Without him, it was just another rock in space.

Fortuna loomed in the distance, and Krystal once again sat up in her blue pilot's seat, reclaiming the controls from the central computer. She was unsure of just how safe it was on the planet after the shocking turn of events that had taken place just yesterday, but she knew that she would find out shortly. The SFX Seraph quickly descended through the atmosphere of Fortuna into the clear skies over the forest planet. The base area was shrouded in the darkness of night, and the full silver moon orbiting the planet shone its platinum-colored rays onto the tops of the forest trees. The stifling thought patterns belonging to the black-and-purple female creature quickly entered her mind, causing Krystal to faintly smile at the knowledge that Violet had survived the battle of Fortuna. Flying over the tall forest canopy, she located Violet's rudimentary hut and hovered in for a landing directly in front of her front door. The black creature quickly opened the door after hearing the sound of Krystal's fighter and watched it slowly touch down twenty feet in front of her. Krystal pressed the button which slid back the aft passenger compartment, and Violet silently climbed aboard and dropped into the small seat behind Krystal's.

"Thank you so much," Violet gratefully spoke in her native tongue.

"You're welcome," Krystal replied, "A promise is a promise. Now, where do I go?"

Without hesitation, Violet said, "X: 150, Y: 150, Z: 300. Those are the coordinates."

Krystal thought it was strange that the coordinates for Iridium would be so simple, but she knew better than to doubt the knowledge of someone who had been raised there. Quickly, she entered the numbers into her navigation system and left the atmosphere of Fortuna. Iridium was awaiting her arrival.


	18. Chapter 18: Left for Dead

**Chapter 18: Left for Dead**

Date and Time: April 21, 10 ALW, 6:55 A.M.

The morning sun rose above the tree canopy as Fox McCloud slowly opened his eyes. His clothes and fur were saturated by the morning dew which had fallen the night before, and his left arm was still painfully sore from his collision with the rock at the bottom of the waterfall he had been launched off of. His Arwing 2 had been dragged to the brink of the waterfall by the powerful river current, but it was completely unflyable. Both wings had been severely damaged, and without a professional welding job, there was no chance of it being able to get airborne again. After collecting everything of value from the ship, he slowly made his way back towards the base. When night fell, he curled up on the ground and quickly fell asleep.

That brought him back to the present, where he had no food, no means of communication, and no medical tools or medications to ease the pain he felt all over his body. The vulpine slowly stood up and staggered forward, doggedly determined to reach the former Oikonny rebellion base. He was prepared to face any enemies that might have still been there, but he guessed that they were most likely gone by now. Fox breathed in the fresh morning air and tried to take in the scenery around him. It truly was a beautiful place; and it was highly unfortunate that the only times he had ever been here before were for military purposes. For a mostly-abandoned planet, it was surprisingly important to the Cornerian Federation.

After hours of trekking through the lush forests, he crested a hill and saw the base less than a mile away from him. He internally rejoiced and continued to move in the direction of the fortress as quickly as his wounded body would allow him to. Upon reaching the outskirts of the base, he looked around and listened for anyone who was still around. Unsurprisingly, there was no one to be seen or heard.

He cautiously stepped across the metallic plating that served as the base's floor, observing a spire that he had flown around the first time he had been to this base during Andrew Oikonny's rebellion. The short-lived war was eerily similar to the military engagement against the Ichtosians that had just been cut short by the unexpected and unannounced arrival of the monolithic black battleship he had first seen on Adalmure. "_I should have known it was coming," _he muttered under his breath.

Not one piece of usable machinery could be found outside the base's many hangars; and hundreds of metallic scraps from downed fighters lay scattered around the base in heaps. Strangely, there were no bodies at the scene of the battle. Fox slowly passed the opening to a hangar on the left side of the base and almost cried out in joy at the sight of a fully intact IA-42 fighter inside. He sprinted over to the fighter, loaded his few belongings into the small nose-mounted cargo bay, and jumped into the cockpit before activating the ignition. Nothing happened. The lights on the dash interface all lit up, but the battery refused to start the engines. Frustrated, Fox searched for the ship's communicator; and after looking for over a minute, he found it.

He could relax knowing that he could now call for help and be extracted back to Corneria. He quickly entered Peppy's extension into the dashboard interface, and the Cornerian Lieutenant General's familiar voice entered his ears for the first time in what seemed like forever.

"Lieutenant General Hare here. Who's this?"

"Peppy, it's Fox. Listen—I survived the crash on Fortuna. Can you get me out of here?"

The hare gravely replied, "Dang it, Fox… I'm sorry, but you're going to have to stick it out for quite some time if things keep going the way they are now. The Ichtosian Supreme Commander landed his battleship on Corneria and managed to escape from the militia; and to keep him from leaving the planet, General Graves has ordered all space traffic to come to a complete stop. No one enters or exits the planet—period."

Fox angrily took in the information and punched the edge of the IA-42's dashboard. "Are you serious? You can't help me get off this rock?"

"No. Sorry, Fox," Peppy sadly apologized.

"Well, can you at least tell Krystal and the rest of the team that I'm alive?" he pleaded.

"Oh boy—you're not going to like this, Fox," Peppy replied. "Krystal disobeyed the General's order and left the planet with Slippy's help. He's being court-martialed for it, too."

"No!" Fox yelled.

"If General Graves gets his hands on Krystal, she's as good as dead. That was a top-level executive order she violated. I don't think things are looking too good for Slippy, either," Peppy unhappily explained.

Fox covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly. Slowly, his unrest turned to hatred for the avian general who would dare to lay a finger on his future wife and his trusted teammate.

"This is where I draw the line, Peppy," he solemnly said. "If General Graves is going to keep acting this way, consider my services terminated, effective immediately."

"Fox, don't be rash!"

"I'm not being rash!" Fox roared, "Listen! General Graves is destroying Corneria—I just know it somehow. Something about him is just wrong. Please—tell me you think the same way about him so I know I'm not crazy."

Peppy seemed deeply perturbed, as if Fox's words had struck a nerve with him. Reluctantly, he admitted, "Fox, you're not crazy. Let's just leave it at that. I'll try to find a way to get you back here as soon as I can, but for now, it looks like you're stuck on Fortuna."

Fox quietly finished the call and closed the IA-42's communications line. He allowed his head to droop to his chest, and he sullenly reflected back on everything that had brought him to this point. He never thought anything like this would happen to him. In his wildest dreams, he never imagined that he would be shut out of Corneria; abandoned on an uncolonized planet without a hope of rescue. He was completely and truly alone in every sense of the word.

Fox looked at the dash interface in front of him and noticed the proprietary screws that ran around its edge. He wondered if the reason this fighter was still here was because something was wrong with it—or…

"Slippy."

This definitely had the appearance of something Slippy would do to an enemy vehicle if the chance presented itself. To Fox's knowledge, everything about the fighter worked except for the ignition, which refused to activate. Sitting inside the IA-42's opened canopy, he glanced around the room and noticed a heavy tool chest resting against the side wall of the darkened hangar. Quickly, he climbed out of the advanced Ichtosian fighter and scrounged through the various trays and drawers contained within the tool chest. Finally, he found a T-type screwdriver set and triumphantly returned to the fighter to remove the dash interface and determine what was wrong with it. The electronic display came off quickly and easily, allowing the vulpine to view the complicated circuit board behind it. A frown crossed his lips when he saw that two of the wires had been cut in half.

Fox laughed in despair as he closely examined the red wire that he deduced was the thread which led to the ignition coil. The only way to leave this planet was to splice the wire back together again. The problem was that he had never done such a thing before. That was supposed to be Slippy's department. Furious with his bad luck, he revisited the tool chest and came across a soldering iron and a thick roll of pliable metal that would work to connect the two severed pieces of wire. A long, orange extension cord was neatly wrapped up in the tray below the drawer he had just opened, and Fox wasted no time in plugging it into the nearest wall outlet and arming the handgun-shaped soldering device.

Once again seated in the black fighter, he attempted to coax the two pieces of wire together before he warmed the soldering iron and shakily touched it to the flexible coil of metal he held in his left paw. His lack of experience with the soldering iron caused his left index finger to unintentionally come into contact with the red-hot tip of the implement, causing him to scream in pain and curse loudly as he smelled his own fur burning after the momentary slip. Now completely incensed, Fox regripped the gun-shaped implement and very cautiously tried once again to melt the soldering material and place it on the severed wires. The instant the liquid metal touched the wires, Fox dropped the coil of solder onto the fighter's floor and adeptly held the two halves of the red wire together while the metal cooled and hardened. He lightly tested the connection and decided that it was time for a test run. With the red dashboard interface held between his paws, he pressed the large ignition button on the bottom right corner of the screen.

The IA-42 finally started, and Fox breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. He picked up the soldering coil and soldered the other sliced wire back together before tossing the implements out of the fighter, screwing the dashboard back into place, and closing the canopy. Before launching the IA-42, he took the time to familiarize himself with the alien ship. All the switches and buttons were exactly where they should have been, and the level of complexity inside the cockpit was shockingly minimal. A purist such as Falco would have loved this ship. Nothing unnecessary had been added, leaving only the bare essentials. Coupled with a high-strength, lightweight armored shell; it provided a skilled pilot with a distinct advantage over most other fighters. At first glance, it appeared to be very similar in design to Star Wolf's Aparoid-era Wolfen, but the similarities began to disappear upon closer examination. The wings were sturdier and longer, and the overall design was more elongated and sleek than that of Star Wolf's signature fighter.

Still acquainting himself with the controls, Fox eased the IA-42 out of the hangar before gunning the throttle and powering into the skies above Fortuna. The vulpine performed a variety of loops and barrel rolls to test the ship's capabilities and was satisfied with the enemy fighter's performance, which at least matched that of his Arwing and even exceeded it in certain areas.

Because he was using an enemy fighter, he quickly realized that the number of destinations he could safely travel to was very small. Corneria was completely out of the question thanks to General Graves's blockade; and if he journeyed to Zoness or Katina, he would certainly be shot down on sight. Eledard was a very viable option, but Fox knew better than to put himself in harm's way in the sprawling metropolis city. Aquas was quickly eliminated from the equation because Fox was unsure if the IA-42 was suitable for use as a submarine vehicle; and due to its recent revolutionary activity, so was Macbeth.

The only realistic option, then, was Papetoon. The dusty, scorched planet had been the vulpine's birthplace, although he never really associated himself with the planet, which was highly popular with bounty hunters and renegades of all varieties. Regardless, it would be the perfect place for him to repaint his new fighter in his own colors and prepare for whatever was to take place next. After exhausting all other options, he set his navigation system for Papetoon and left Fortuna behind.

* * *

The former Supreme Commander of Ichtos thought that he would lose his mind if he had to spend another night in the hayloft. He had already endured sleeping on the hard wooden rafters of the red barn belonging to the Cornerian orange farm for two nights now; and he decided that it was time for him to make a move on the vixen who owned and operated the agrarian operation. He was aware that people of all races were drawn to him by his charismatic persona, but if the vixen were to recognize him as the Supreme Commander of Ichtos, he would be done for. It was around 9:15 in the morning, and he knew that in the remaining six hours and 45 minutes of the workday (factoring in an hour-long lunch break), he would have to find some way to make himself unrecognizable as the Supreme Commander.

He had an idea, although he wasn't very fond of it. Nevertheless, it would give him a good chance to score an invitation into the vixen's farmhouse. Unhappily, he removed his trench coat, pulled out his razor-sharp combat knife, and proceeded to slice a plethora of gashes and cuts into his black shirt and black trousers. With step one completed, he descended the ladder down to the floor of the barn and stepped outside. The farming vixen was far out in the orange grove, plucking oranges and placing them in a large wicker basket more than a half mile from the homestead. Walking around the side of the shed, the Commander found a coiled-up hose and a water spigot, which he connected and turned on.

He pointed the hose at a patch of bare dirt close to the side of the barn and held it in place for over two minutes, making sure that the dirt had completely turned to mud. After it was satisfactorily sludgy, he turned off the water and rolled around in the mud puddle he had just created, making sure that every visible part of him was at least partially caked in mud. His plan called on pretending that he was lost, homeless, and desperately in need of a meal. He sincerely hoped that it would work, because if the plan failed, he would be almost completely out of options after ditching on Corneria.

As the hours dragged by, the Commander constantly picked at the mud which was now caked on his fur while he waited for sundown. He had no choice but to abandon the barn to avoid being locked inside when the vixen closed up the building for the day. Instead, he camped out behind a row of rose bushes a quarter mile from the homestead and anxiously waited for the vixen to complete her work for the day. He knew that he was putting a lot on the line by doing this, because unlike the city dwellers, residents of Corneria's agricultural areas were known to carry weapons with them at all times. He hadn't seen a gun on her person yet, but he had noticed a pump shotgun leaning up against the counter in her kitchen when he entered her house two days ago.

As the sun began to set in the horizon, the yellow farm tractor slowly backed into the barn before the red vixen locked the shed and slowly stepped into her house. Even from a distance, the Commander could see that she was very unenthusiastic about her life and her work. She worked the orange farm to make a living for herself and to continue the legacy of her deceased parents—not because she enjoyed it.

It was time for him to move. With his heart beating rapidly in his chest, he stood up from behind the rose bushes and uneasily walked up the gravel driveway to her front door. He stared at the white door for over a minute, contemplating his decision to appeal to the vixen for 'help.' He almost regretted it, because he was putting himself completely at her mercy.

Bravely, he pressed the circular doorbell button, causing a soft 'ding' noise to resonate throughout the house. The Commander held his breath and waited before the door swung open. The red vixen stood in the doorway, shocked at the sight of the muddy male fox that stood before her. She almost never had visitors to her house, and the longer she looked at him, the more she wanted to let him in.

"What happened to you?" she thoughtfully asked, observing the thick, dry mud that completely covered his handsome figure.

The Commander replied, "I'm lost, ma'am. I haven't eaten a good meal in days, either."

The vixen immediately felt deep sympathy for her guest. "Come on in. Just make sure you take your shoes off first."

"Will do."

The Commander placed his muddy boots just inside the doorway and stepped into the homestead, which was decorated with many heirlooms from past generations. The vixen kindly spoke, "I'll make something for you to eat while you shower off. You can use my phone to call someone to pick you up, if you'd like."

With a barely perceptible amount of nervousness in his voice, the Commander mumbled, "Well… I don't know anyone around here. It's kind of a long story."

"I see," the vixen replied, raising her paw to her muzzle, lightly feathering it while thinking about what she could do about her guest's situation. After a momentary pause, she looked back at the Commander and said, "There's a guest bedroom and bathroom upstairs. You can stay here for the night if you're comfortable with it."

"_Comfortable?" _he unbelievingly thought to himself. "_I'm more than comfortable with that."_ He couldn't believe his incredible fortune. The kind vixen had quickly taken a liking to him, even though he was caked in mud and wearing torn, ragged clothes. Without hesitation, he walked up the nearby flight of stairs to the second story, which contained a long bonus room, an office, and the guest quarters. The Commander slowly entered the guest bathroom, shut the door, and pulled off his filthy clothes before stepping into the shower and thoroughly cleaning himself.

The vulpine quickly realized that the next few minutes would most likely be very awkward. It would be senseless to put on his muddy clothes after he had just washed, but he had to wear _something_ in front of the vixen who had so courteously allowed him to use her house's facilities. He continued to think about his next move as he stepped out of the shower and dried his dark fur with a beige towel.

A knock at the door soon came, followed by the friendly vixen's voice. "I brought you a bath robe," she announced.

"Oh…uh, thanks!" the Commander replied from inside the room. As soon as he knew that she was gone, he cracked open the door and snatched the bath robe off the front of the doorknob. The white garment was made of a sublimely soft fabric that gently caressed the vulpine's fur as he donned it and pulled his bushy tail through the small hole in the back.

After folding his clothes, he left the bathroom and made his way down the stairs into the kitchen, where the vixen had just finished preparing a plate of white meat and mashed potatoes with gravy.

"Eat up," she said with a smile to the Commander, who seated himself at the small, rectangular, wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. Hardwood flooring took the place of carpet throughout most of the first story with the exception of the master bedroom; and the antique wooden cabinets and drawers in the kitchen hearkened back to a simpler, more carefree age. The 12-guage shotgun that the Commander had seen earlier was leaning up against a set of drawers, although it served very little purpose other than to dissuade any kind of foul play related to trespassers or unruly visitors.

The vixen placed the steaming hot plate in front of him and provided a set of silverware for him to eat with before opening her refrigerator and removing a pitcher filled with a brown liquid that the Commander was unfamiliar with. She filled a glass with ice, poured the mysterious liquid into it, and quickly set it next to the vulpine's plate. However, he was too concentrated on the food in front of him to pay much attention to the drink. He hadn't eaten anything other than oranges for the last few days, and the appearance of meat almost drove him into a frenzy. He tried to keep his manners decent in front of the vixen, but he wanted nothing more than to shove his face into the plate and eat the whole meal like a wild, ravenous animal.

Soon, the plate was completely empty, and the Commander set to work on washing the food down with the brown drink which the vixen had provided for him. The liquid was inordinately sugary—much more so than what he was used to—but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He accurately deduced that it must have been some form of sweet tea with a hint of mint thrown in to enhance the flavor.

While the Commander finished his drink, the vixen sank down into a black leather armchair nearby and turned on the flatscreen TV that hung on the wall above the stone-lined fireplace. The television had been set to one of the main Cornerian news channels, and the main story—of course—was the search for the Supreme Commander of Ichtos. The fallen dictator keenly fixed his eyes on the screen as the female feline news analyst pointed out all the information that was available on the Supreme Commander's whereabouts, his appearance, and his identity.

"_Good evening. The search for the Supreme Commander of Ichtos continues after two days of tearing apart the rural outskirts of Corneria City in hopes of finding him. General Horatio Graves of the Cornerian Army has told our sources that he will not lift the blockade until he has either been captured or killed. If you come into contact with the Supreme Commander, do not attempt a citizen's arrest. He is known to be armed and very dangerous. Leave it to the police and the military to take care of him. According to old records that General Graves accessed recently, his name is Stephen M. Farris, and he is a former Cornerian Army sergeant. If you see him, call your local law enforcement agency immediately—and I cannot stress 'immediately' enough. For News Channel 5, this is Sarah McConnell reporting from the steps of the Corneria City capital building."_

The television broadcast cut to a picture of the Supreme Commander wearing his trademark gray trench coat. The vixen slowly turned to look at her handsome guest seated at the table behind her and quickly did a double take before leaping from her seat and grabbing her shotgun faster than the Commander would have thought possible.

"You bastard!" the gun-toting vixen screamed at the top of her lungs with her ears flattened against her skull. "What do you think you're doing here?!"

The Commander seemed to be completely unaffected by her angry tirade. Calmly, he replied, "Trying to survive. What do you think?"

"Well, I'm about to send you straight to hell!" the vixen furiously replied, pumping her shotgun.

"I would reconsider what you're about to do if I were you," the Commander coolly spoke. "I suppose you take me for a tyrant."

"Damn right I do!"

"You're sadly mistaken," the Commander explained, "I am not a slave driver—I am a liberator. By killing me, you will be silencing the last voice that dares to challenge the corruption that is overwhelming this Federation."

"Please explain," the incensed vixen snarled.

"The leadership of the Cornerian Federation has overstepped its bounds. They're reached a point where they will deliberately annihilate an entire species in the name of 'preemptive defense.' The Department of Intelligence is on a bloody murder spree attempting to silence anyone who dares to oppose the will of the Federation, and your general is the former leader of the unit that murdered my father without cause."

The vixen lowered her shotgun, but she still kept it tightly pressed it against her shoulder. "How do I know that you're not making that up?"

The vulpine calmly posed a question of his own in response to her. "Why would I have a reason to declare war on the Federation if none of that was true?

"Because you're a worthless warmonger," she snapped.

"So, they've brainwashed you, too? I feel sorry for the people of Corneria. When the Federation strips away all of their rights and rules them by fear, they'll all scream for revolution; but by then, it'll be too late. No one will deliver them, and they'll all be powerless to resist the iron will of the Prime Minister and his bloodthirsty military leaders."

"I don't believe in your conspiracy theories, pal," she scoffed. "I know they're not the best people in the world, but they'd never do that."

"Think again," said the Commander with a grim smile. "Tell me—why did the General lock down the entire planet just to keep me from escaping? Because he's afraid of me—that's why. He knows that I have the power to expose him."

The vixen uncomfortably set her shotgun down and seated herself across from the Commander at the table. "Tell me more," she soberly said with her mouth still locked in an aggressive scowl.

"General Graves directly controls a unit called ONYX that unconditionally follows his orders. That unit is responsible for completely wiping out a species called the Zharon simply because they had a more advanced civilization than ours. Of course, you'd never hear that from him. That mission file's probably in a dark room somewhere in the D.o.I. office," he grimly muttered.

"How are you any better than him?" the vixen retorted, directing her fierce eyes towards the Commander, who refused to even flinch.

"I don't need to answer that question," he calmly answered, almost as if he didn't care that he was in a potentially fatal situation. "Ask my people—they'll tell you in a heartbeat."

The vixen angrily huffed and looked towards the TV screen to her right. The broadcast was still detailing the specifics of General Graves's blockade of Corneria and the estimated location of the former leader of Ichtos. Looking back at the vulpine, she asked, "Are you not afraid of what they'll do to you when they find you?"

"_When_? Don't make me laugh. And no—the worst they can do is kill me, and I'm not afraid of dying anymore," he sternly replied.

By this point in the conversation, the vixen had become exasperated with her guest. Still fuming, she stared him straight in the eyes and said, "Alright—be honest with me, 'Commander.' Are you twisting your stories to make yourself look better?"

"Who doesn't?" he solemnly replied, "But no—I'm not making any of this up."

The vixen sighed and looked down at the wood-grain surface of the kitchen table as she considered what her guest had said. Even though she was still irked by the dark-furred vulpine, she knew that he was telling her the truth that her own people had attempted to hide from her. Her attitude was not improved in the least by the fact that the man sitting across from her had been fully responsible for plunging the Lylat System into its third war in a decade. Briefly, she looked up at his face and observed his elegant, well-formed muzzle, his dark fur, and most importantly, his piercing green eyes that showed no trace of fear. The amount of confidence that radiated from them was unsettling to the vixen, who failed to understand how anyone could appear to be so comfortable when a shotgun blast to the chest could have ended his life at any given moment.

Biting her lip, the vixen ordered, "Get up."

The Commander rose to his feet and gazed at the tense vixen, who muttered, "I'm not going to kill you; and if what you said about General Graves is true, I'm not sure I want to turn you over to the authorities, either.

The dark-furred vulpine remained silent as the vixen paced back and forth across the kitchen floor, thinking deeply about what she would do with the fallen Ichtosian leader. An idea crossed her mind, but she knew that it would be risky. Placing her hands on her hips, she asked him, "Can I trust you?"

"That depends," he replied. "What do you want from me?"

The vixen slowly approached him until their muzzles were less than two feet apart. "I'll make a deal with you, Commander," she explained, flicking her voluptuous tail and twitching her ears. "I'll let you stay here with me under two conditions: one—if you'll help me work in the orange grove; and two—if you'll promise not to run off and try anything again."

The dark-furred fox took a deep breath and mused over his options. If he refused to agree to her terms, he would find himself on the run once again; and if he decided to stay with her and work on the orange farm, he would essentially be allowing himself to become her personal servant. The thought sickened him, but he knew that running was no longer a viable option. General Graves was not going to lift the blockade anytime soon, and General Venucci would be unable to send in a search and rescue team to locate him because his own military was almost completely crippled. Anyone else who identified him as the Supreme Commander of Ichtos would almost certainly shoot him on sight or turn him over to the Cornerian police.

As he locked eyes with the beautiful red vixen in front of him, the dictator realized how fortunate he was to still be alive and at least somewhat free. She had given him an opportunity that he would never be able to come across again. His eyes dreamily wandered over her beautiful face all the way down to her thick, velvety brush which was slowly sweeping back and forth behind her back. If she hadn't been so ravishingly beautiful, his decision would not have been nearly as difficult as it was.

Realizing that his only other alternative was death or imprisonment, he gave in to the reality of his circumstances and quietly said, "I'll do it."

"Thank you," the vixen replied, giving the vulpine a kind pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry—I won't be too hard on you. By the way, my name's Silvia. What do you want me to call you? Because there's no way I'm going to keep calling you 'Commander'."

"Just call me Stephen," he reluctantly answered.


	19. Chapter 19: Iridium

**Chapter 19: Iridium**

Date and Time: April 21, 10 ALW, 5:27 P.M.

The darkest reaches of space yawned before Krystal as Violet's tired resting breaths emanated from the back seat of the SFX Seraph. The blue vixen glanced over her shoulder and smiled at the sight of her black and purple friend peacefully slumbering behind her. The navigation unit on her dashboard indicated that Iridium was only fifteen more minutes away at her current rate of speed.

Krystal felt her heartbeat begin to rise the closer she moved to the planet. She wasn't sure what to expect, and she had half a mind to believe that it was a trap. Nonetheless, she never deviated from her course and continued to guide the Seraph in the direction of Iridium, trusting that the mysterious figure from her dream had been truthful to her.

The Cornerian fighter's engines whined behind her as Iridium finally came into view. Krystal breathlessly looked out the front of her canopy in awe and admiration of the beautiful silver planet that lay before her. It looked exactly like what its name suggested. Metallic silver clouds raced across the planet, partially obscuring the crystal clear ocean water that was completely uncontaminated by any caustic chemicals. The planet appeared to be in a gibbous stage of sunlight, and elaborate patterns of city lights could be seen on the darkened portion of the planet's surface. However, despite the obvious presence of technology, the Seraph's life-form reader only indicated one sentient being. Could it be _him_? Krystal could only hope to find out.

"Violet, wake up—we're here," she calmly said, turning her head to look at her new acquaintance, who stirred in the back seat and yawned heavily. Krystal began her approach to the planet, not exactly sure where to set a course. The entire planet was covered by one enormous city, making it very difficult to ascertain the best landing spot.

"Violet, where do I land?" the Cerinian asked.

"It doesn't matter," Violet replied, "There's a system of warp points that travels across the entire planet. Just find something that looks like a hangar or a landing platform and you should be fine."

Krystal thanked her friend as the Seraph broke through the upper Iridian atmosphere and descended below the cloud cover. The sprawling city was breathtaking in its scope and grandeur; and to Krystal, it looked like what Cerinia would have been like two hundred years ahead of its time. Even though the metropolis was all-encompassing, there were still many exotic trees that grew in carefully planned positions throughout the city. Most of them were not indigenous to the planet, but had instead been naturalized by the former natives who seeked to add more life to the planet which had begun as a frozen wasteland. The area Krystal was flying over was on the edge of the ocean, and she could clearly see the brilliant white beach sand and the endless expanse of clear, fresh water that seemed to extend into eternity.

Krystal noticed a dish-shaped landing platform and slowly lowered the Seraph onto it. She unhurriedly opened both the fore and aft canopies as Violet quickly pulled her lithe figure from the craft and stretched on the metallic surface which was attached to a skyscraper and hung more than 500 feet above the planet's surface. Krystal very slowly slid out of her pilot's seat and dropped to the platform, still enraptured by the planet. The sun was beginning to set, and a light, brisk wind whistled through her cerulean hair. No location she had ever been to in her life could hold a candle to this, save for Cerinia. She assumed that the third planet in the Iridium Triangle that the mysterious vulpine had spoken of would be equally beautiful as well. "_Revnus_, _that's what it was called_," Krystal thought.

Violet confidently led the way into the skyscraper which the platform was affixed to with Krystal close behind her. The Cerinian curiously glanced around the halls of the high-rise building, taking note of the advanced white plastic that seemed to cover nearly every surface she touched. The black creature led Krystal down a brightly illuminated hallway until they reached a circular area that acted as an elevator. Violet stepped onto the circular silver platform and motioned for Krystal to join her before she simply said "ground." The platform rapidly dropped towards the bottom level as the lights of all the floors below them raced past at a dizzying speed. The elevator stopped very abruptly, causing Krystal to fall to the surface of the circular elevator platform with a cry of pain. Quickly, Violet smiled and kindly offered Krystal her paw, helping her back to her feet.

Violet and Krystal stepped out of the elevator area and into a high-walled chamber which acted as a sort of atrium. An abstract sculpture that resembled a double helix stood in the middle of the room and reached more than two hundred feet into the air. Directly in front of it was a white frame with a viscous green liquid suspended in the middle.

"I'll go first," said Violet, leaving Krystal's side and selecting "Science Area Lounge" from the list on the frame's small interface screen on its top right corner. "Follow my lead."

The black creature slowly stepped through the frame, and Krystal watched with an uncomfortable grimace as she disappeared into the liquid. She had experienced something similar to this phenomenon less than a year ago during Star Fox's journey to the Aparoid homeworld after the Beltino Orbital Gate had been activated, and she wasn't particularly excited to be experiencing it again.

Nervously, she moved towards the frame and slowly extended her right paw into the gooey green substance in front of her. The sludge smacked and oozed around her arm before she summoned up all of her courage and forced the rest of her body through the frame. The teleporter sent her to the lounge area where Voltimure liked to relax when he wasn't experimenting with something. Upon exiting the white frame on the other side of the warp, she saw Violet tenderly hugging a huge lupine figure that wore eyeglasses and an oversized white coat. Krystal immediately felt uncomfortable in his presence. She had never seen a native species capable of such immense physical prowess, and the fearsome appearance of the seven-foot-tall Zharon sent chills up her spine.

Soon, the tall creature released his grip on Violet and turned to face Krystal. "Who's this?" Voltimure inquisitively asked his daughter.

"That's my friend Krystal," Violet happily replied, "She's from Cerinia."

"A living Cerinian? My words! This is most fascinating!" he enthusiastically explained.

Krystal felt unexpectedly shy in front of the outgoing scientist, but she forced herself to nervously utter the word "Hi."

"Hello, Miss Krystal," Voltimure said with a smile, offering his paw for Krystal to shake. "You are welcome to anything and everything on this wonderful planet of Iridium." He laughed and continued, "There's more than enough room for you, as you might have noticed. You can reside anywhere you'd like."

"Thank you, sir," Krystal humbly replied. "What's your name?"

"Voltimure Reige."

Krystal smiled and said, "Pleased to meet you, Voltimure. By the way, did you ever see a gray fox around here?"

"Never in my life. As far as I know, the only people who live here are me and my A.I. Rose."

Krystal began to worry slightly. She had expected to be immediately greeted by the spectral vulpine figure; but instead, she had met an unnaturally large lupine who knew absolutely nothing about him. Something felt terribly wrong; however, she wanted to spend a little bit more time on the planet before she left and tried to find some place to call her own after fleeing from Corneria.

"I think I could use some sleep, Voltimure," Krystal softly said. "It's been a long day."

"Not a problem, Miss Krystal. I'll have Rose show you to your room," Voltimure happily replied.

He shouted, "Rose! Come here!" and soon, the Cerinian-colored A.I. emerged from a nearby hallway, wearing a short white dress. Krystal raised a curious eyebrow at the sight of the mechanical vixen who wore the fur of the native Cerinian people.

"What is it, master?" the A.I. calmly spoke.

Voltimure succinctly replied, "This is my new friend Krystal. She wants to get some rest. Could you take her to her new residence?"

"Of course, master," Rose replied, never once questioning her creator and owner.

"Follow me," she said to Krystal. The natural-born Cerinian followed the imitator down the nearby hallway through another portal which led to a number of lavish suites, all fully furnished and decorated. "Mmm… very nice," Krystal murmured at the sight of the elegantly-arrayed living areas as she stepped into the one nearest her.

Upon seeing the black stains on her jumpsuit (courtesy of the C-12 battery she had handled earlier), Rose kindly offered to clean it for her. Krystal felt no shame in disrobing in front of an A.I., so she removed her jumpsuit without hesitation and handed it to Rose before throwing in her underwear for good measure. She began to regret her decision not to pack additional clothes, because this was probably going to be happening much more frequently than she would have liked.

"How long will it take to clean my clothes?" Krystal uneasily asked.

"About 90 minutes," the A.I. calmly replied, checking Krystal's apparel for any stains that she had not originally noticed. "I can bring you one of my dresses if it would make you more comfortable."

"Don't bother," said Krystal, turning her head and eyeing the large bed which looked sublimely comfortable. "I don't need clothes to sleep in. Just set them outside the door when you're done with them."

"Yes, ma'am," Rose obediently replied, shutting the door to Krystal's new residence and leaving her alone in the room. The Cerinian slowly strode around the room, admiring its intriguing appearance as she finally began to relax. The room was very similar to the Supreme Commander's suite when he had visited the planet, and it suited Krystal's design-conscious eye very nicely. The sun was but a memory, and night had fallen on Iridium.

Knowing that no one was around to see her nudity, she opened the clear glass door which led to the balcony and leaned up against its silver metallic railing. She looked down and observed the quiet metropolis below her. The only sound she could hear was the pure sound of the ocean waves. There were no birds chirping or engines roaring—just the sounds of the water and the wind. In the strangest of ways, it felt like home; almost as if it was meant for her all along.

After standing out in the cool night air for five minutes, she returned to her room and curled up in her luxurious bed. A smile crossed her face as she slipped into a deep sleep. She was finally at peace with herself and her circumstances.

* * *

Krystal was unaware of how long she had slept, or if she was dreaming. She found herself lying in the grass near a shallow pool of water in a dense forest. Her mind attempted to comprehend the circumstances behind her arrival at this strange place; and the only possible explanation was that it was somehow a deep, vivid dream. She attempted to pinch herself and was easily able to do so. The pain shot through her arm just as it would have if she were awake.

A select few 'enlightened' Cerinians had claimed to have experienced hyper-real lucid visions that twisted the fabric of reality and placed the dreamer in an alternate universe inside their own mind. Krystal wondered if she was experiencing one of these dreams for herself. She looked at her reflection in the mirror-like water of the pool and noticed that her hair was slightly longer than it normally was. However, it was still very recognizable as her own hair. Her tribal tattoos were still present, although her fur seemed to have taken on a rich, deep, and vaguely metallic complexion that was very pleasing to her eyes. She calmly stroked her leg and found her pelt to be even softer than it had been before.

She looked to her left and saw that the tribal clothes she used to wear were neatly folded near the roots of a large specimen belonging to a species of tree which was abundant on Cerinia. Quickly, she slipped into the minimalistic attire and picked up her staff, which lay on the ground next to where her clothes had been. The vixen curiously wandered through the forest, admiring the strange and unique appearance of the wooded area. She assumed that she was still on Iridium, although she was unsure if any of it was actually real.

She walked through a gap between two large palms and found herself on the edge of a white, sandy beach that stretched out for miles and miles beyond her line of sight. In the distance to her right, she could see a large spire, accompanied by three slightly smaller towers that reflected the powerful Iridian sunlight with a mirror-like quality. She looked ahead of her and saw that a hammock had been set up between two good-sized palm trees. A red vulpine wearing a pair of white swim trunks was relaxing in it while staring out at the ocean.

Krystal immediately recognized that it was Fox, and she quickly sprinted over to him and flung herself into his arms in the sturdy hammock that was easily large enough for two. Fox smiled and tenderly kissed her while softly stroking the nape of her supple neck. She eventually came to rest on top of his chest, looking directly into his calm, loving, green eyes which she had come to know so well. She began to cry; and the red vulpine felt the vixen's soft tears dropping to his chest like salty raindrops. He saw that her face was riddled with sorrow, but he failed to understand the cause of her misery.

"Why are you crying, Krystal?" he softly asked in a voice that sounded deeper and more mature than the voice that Krystal was used to hearing from him.

She miserably whimpered, "Because you're dead, Fox. I miss you more than anything I've ever lost before—even Cerinia."

Fox kindly stroked her face as a gracious, understanding smile crossed his lips. "Krystal, I'm not dead. Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

"You survived?" she happily exclaimed.

"Yes."

The vixen shed a flood of joyful tears that soaked the white tufts of fur just below Fox's neckline while he continued to gently caress her face as she feverishly wept.

"I'd been praying that somehow, you would survive," she emotionally whimpered with a broken, shaky voice. "I thought I lost you forever, Fox."

"You don't have to worry, Krystal. I'll always be with you," Fox reassured her. "…Even if it's only in your dreams."

Krystal continued to cry softly on Fox's chest while he patted her back and explained, "I can't stay here forever. I have to go back to my reality soon."

"Please! Don't leave me!" she begged.

"Krystal, I promise that we'll meet again. I don't know when or how, but I know that we will. Now, get up—it's time for you to finish this."

Krystal uneasily lifted herself off of Fox's chest and stood up on the white beach sand; and soon afterwards, Fox also rose to his feet and locked lips with his beloved Cerinian. The two vulpines savored the moment as if it was their last. Krystal closed her eyes and tightly embraced Fox; but when he opened them, she found that he was gone.

"F…Fox?"

The sounds of the wind and the waves were the only noises that reached her ears. Fox had been taken from her once again. She sobbed and lowered her head as she slowly paced towards the four buildings in the distance ahead of her. However, her soul was comforted by the knowledge that Fox had survived the crash on Fortuna and was still alive. Her only prayer had been answered; and she could only hope that she would have the chance to meet him again. For now, the only thing she could do was to work out her dream to its completion.

After thirty minutes of walking along the soft sands of the white Iridian beach, Krystal moved slightly inland and approached the first of the three towers surrounding the spire. Now that she was much closer than she had been before, she observed that each of the towers had an open walkway that led into the large spire that stood in the middle.

The Cerinian shuffled up to the entrance of the first tower, noticing that the shape of a square was printed above the door. She recalled from her first vision that the square represented the planet of Cerinia; and without further hesitation, she pushed open the metallic door and stepped inside.

Sunlight filled the room as she entered the tower, which contained an enormous staircase that followed the perimeter of the room and seemed to climb forever. She looked up and saw another square printed on the building's ceiling far above her. At the base of the stairs was a large book opened to a page which read, "_An Aeon to pass, and an Aeon to come. Sign your name and begin your journey, my daughter."_

Krystal picked up the elegant golden pen that rested in the book's spine and wrote the name "Krystal of Cerinia" in the space provided for her. Nothing extraordinary happened after she had signed her name, but she knew that by doing so, she was consigning herself to the fate that had been prearranged for her. She had learned to accept it, and she no longer fought against what had already been determined.

The vixen slowly climbed the stairs and looked out the clear, glasslike sides of the building, admiring the beauty of the Iridian coastline as she climbed higher and higher until she reached the top of the building. On the top floor, Krystal gasped and dropped to her knees at the sight of her long-lost sister, who stood in front of the door that lead to the walkway to the spire. The other Cerinian wore garments similar to Krystal's, but with a more regal appearance. A white silk cloth was tied around her upper chest, and a long silk scarf that fell to her waist was wrapped around her neck. She wore a loincloth like Krystal's, but hers reached to her shins and sported the symbols befitting the monarch of Cerinian's most dominant tribe. Instead of sandals, she wore open-toed boots that reached past her knees; and a small, beautiful gold tiara was placed on her head.

Reverently, Krystal asked her sister, "How may I serve you, Your Highness?"

The elder Cerinian smiled at her younger sister and knelt down in front of her. "You always deserved the throne of Cerinia, Krystal," she softly said. "Even our father and mother believed it—as did I. As the last of our people, you have inherited the title of Queen. Please, take my crown."

"Do you mean it?" she whimpered.

"Of course, Krystal." The monarch stood up, removed her tiara, carefully lowered it onto Krystal's head, and solemnly said, "I now crown you as the Queen of the eastern tribes, and the ruler over all of Cerinia. Rule wisely, Queen Krystal. _May the blessings of the Originator be upon you."_

Krystal sobbed and hugged her older sister, who comforted her and softly said, "Everything happens for a reason. The destruction of our home was not the end. You will be the one to continue the legacy of our people. I know you'll make all of us proud, Krystal. Now go—the Archetype is waiting for you."

"The Archetype?"

"You know who I'm talking about," Krystal's sister replied. "The forerunner of all the Iridian people. He's waiting for you. Go, Your Highness."

"Okay," Krystal replied, pushing open the door that led to the walkway which bridged the gap between the tower and the spire in the middle of the other three buildings. Even at the elevated height which she was at, the wind was eerily quiet. She could very faintly hear the sound of the ocean far below and behind her; but for the most part, the only sound she could distinctly make out was the noise of her sandaled feet on the metallic surface of the walkway. She glanced down and gripped at the walkway's railings after seeing the lush jungle canopy far below her. The spire was much larger than she had first thought, and it appeared to be large enough to house more than twenty individuals with ease.

Upon reaching the door to the central spire, she opened it and stepped inside. A red, circular path ran around the perimeter of the rounded building, and a wide, open area of metallic tile stood before her. Tinted windows followed the curve of the building and provided for the majority of the large, circular room's lighting; although several overhead lights were also present. Krystal observed a sign above her head with an arrow pointing her in the direction of a place called "High Iridium." The sign directed the vixen up a short spiral staircase that led to a blank wall with the familiar red conduits running down its side. A single door stood in the middle of the wall, and Krystal felt a shiver run down her spine when she saw the emblem of the Iridium Triangle above the door.

With her paws trembling, she grabbed the door handle and turned it. She knew exactly where she was. This was the place where the being now known as the 'Archetype' had first appeared to her. The room was pitch-black, except for the dimly-lit circular interface in the center of the triangular-shaped room. The spectral gray-furred vulpine stood in front of it, his glowing silver eyes piercing through the darkness surrounding him.

"_Welcome back, Daughter of Cerinia."_

As before, a brilliant white light suddenly filled the room; and Krystal awoke from her dream.


	20. Chapter 20: In Too Deep

**Chapter 20: In Too Deep**

Date and Time: April 22, 10 ALW, 6:51 A.M.

In the early morning hours on Corneria, General Graves started his military SUV's diesel engine and pulled out of the military complex which he lived and worked in. No one was to accompany him on the way to the clandestine meeting he was scheduled to arrive at. The elderly eagle drove through the quiet morning streets of Corneria City nearly unimpeded by traffic signals or traffic jams; and in fifteen minutes, he had exited the city limits.

Miles of wheat fields bordering the coastline stretched before him while the diesel SUV quietly purred as General Graves guided it away from the city. His destination was a state-owned tract of land fifteen miles outside the seaside village of Admen, which in and of itself was fifty miles outside of Corneria City. The long and quiet trip gave him time to reflect on the purpose of his meeting with several top agents belonging to the Cornerian Department of Intelligence. The rendezvous was intended to be a discussion about Beltino Toad's recent discovery that had linked the Aparoid virus with an individual capable of manipulating the enigmatic Iridium Glyphic language. The discovery had been shocking, to say the least.

After the unfortunate outcome of the battle over Fortuna, the Lylatian public had been given a false report of the outcome that did not include the account of the immense black warship that had appeared and sabotaged the vast majority of the Cornerian Army's spacefaring vessels. The last thing Graves needed was more unrest from the people of Lylat.

The avian deeply considered the possibility of a future attack from the mysterious enemy. The reality that the Cornerian Army would not be capable of stopping another offensive like the one over Fortuna was highly distressing; and both Graves and Lieutenant General Peppy were in knots about what to do in order to keep the capital of Lylat safe. Additional planetary defense systems had been authorized, and several powerful railguns and missile launchers had already been placed in key positions around Corneria City and Southport.

The eagle eventually came to a gravel service road that he turned onto, heading into what seemed like the middle of nowhere. However, a barbed-wire fence guarded by two heavily armed canine soldiers soon appeared. One of the two soldiers approached Graves with his weapon at the ready and spoke in a gruff voice. "Speak your name and the purpose of your visit."

Graves quickly replied, "General Horatio Graves. I'm here to discuss the future of Cornerian defense technology."

"Clearance granted, General," the canine replied, sliding open the gate and allowing the general to enter the restricted area.

Graves slowly drove his SUV down the gravel road until he came to the entrance of an underground bunker. He parked the SUV in the long grass near the entrance, making sure not to block the road. Then, he exited the vehicle and walked up to the bunker's heavy blast door, which was guarded by yet another canine guard.

"I.D., please," said the guard.

Graves quickly flashed his Cornerian I.D. tag, and the canine guard approved it. "Good deal. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I'm required to escort you in here, General."

"Not a problem," Graves unemotionally replied.

The armed guard led General Graves through a dimly-lit passageway and down a mesh-like set of stairs before he and the general walked past what appeared to be a laboratory. Various experimental technologies could be seen within, including the newest armor and vehicle prototypes for the ONYX unit. The canine guard had been anticipating Graves's arrival and knew exactly where to take him. The soldier opened a dark gray metal door and held it for the general, who thanked him and stepped inside.

The room Graves entered was very dissimilar to the dark gray colors of the rest of the base; and its bright white paint added a welcome luminosity to the room. Three individuals were seated at a rectangular, silver table that had been set up in the center of the room, waiting for the general's arrival.

Graves took the one seat available to him and sat across from a large panda named Xiao Ling. To his left was a black falcon wearing heavily battered ONYX armor, and to his right was a lab coat-wearing, elderly lizard that looked slightly unhinged, to say the least.

The general immediately turned his attention to the ONYX trooper to his left. "Alpha 1? I thought you were dead."

"Not yet, General," he replied with a raspy voice.

The large panda across from Graves calmly spoke, "Welcome, General Graves. You already know the purpose for this meeting. The man to your right is our top scientist, Dr. Vairos."

"Pleased to meet you," said Graves, shaking the scientist's scaly hand.

The panda continued, "I am aware that you participated in Operation Zenith more than thirty years ago, General. Could you kindly explain it to us?"

"Certainly," the avian replied, "Zenith was a xenocide operation on a planet in the Iridium Cluster called Zharon. Our objective was to completely eliminate all life on the planet in order to prevent a possible future attack on the Lylat System. We determined that the natives of the planet had access to a language that doubled as a programming code and enabled scientific advances that would put ours to shame."

"Well, it appears to have failed, General," said the panda. "From the information we retrieved from Dr. Toad, it appears that the Aparoids were created using the same code those people were using." He continued, "…and now, it appears that we are in for the fight of our lives."

Graves calmly asked, "How is that?"

"We studied every scrap of evidence we could find on and around Fortuna after the battle that claimed most of our armada. Everything we have points to the existence of at least one organism that could be considered part of an 'accelerated species.'"

"Can you explain?" Graves asked in reply.

"Yes, General. An accelerated species is defined as a race that has developed more rapidly than others in response to certain stimuli. However, it could also be defined as a species that is not entirely biological."

"You mean that they might be computer-based?"

"Yes, General, I am suggesting that," the panda replied. "If that is the case, we are dealing with an enemy with access to technology possibly hundreds of years ahead of ours."

Graves swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "What do you suggest we do, Supervisor?"

"I'll let Dr. Vairos explain that," the panda replied. "Whenever you're ready, doctor."

"Well…yes!" said the eccentric doctor, "In this crisis situation, we have been left with no choice but to begin experimenting with the limited body of work Andross left behind before he was exiled to Venom."

"What kind of work are you talking about?" Graves sternly asked.

"Biotech, cybernetics, advanced cloning, and mental warfare."

Graves looked away from Dr. Vairos and down at the surface of the table. He was not above using extreme measures if he deemed them necessary, but this was almost too extreme. "Please explain what you mean by 'mental warfare,'" he solemnly said.

"Bring in the cubs," said the doctor to the large panda, who complied and returned to the room after two minutes, carrying two blue-furred fox kits of the opposite sexes in his enormous arms. He handed the male specimen to Graves and held onto the infant vixen as he took his seat across from the avian general. The newborn kit immediately began to cry as Graves held him.

"Be quiet!" Graves impatiently muttered. "Why is it crying?"

"These are augmented Cerinian clones," Ling replied, "They can sense thought patterns and emotions, and they can tell when they're in danger or with someone who can't be trusted."

"Hmph. You take him," Graves unhappily remarked, standing up and handing the cub back to Xiao Ling, who pulled him to his chest, causing the young Cerinian to quiet down. Graves felt insulted by the newborn cub that had revealed to everyone in the room that he was a cold-hearted, cruel old man. "Where did they come from? And what are you going to do with them?" he angrily asked.

Ling replied, "We think that there was a lot of untapped potential in the Cerinian race. Based on what we heard from Krystal, they had a fair amount of advanced technology; but it was still in the developmental stage when the planet was destroyed. I wish there was something we could have done to save them. They could have become a valuable ally. Anyhow, these cubs were created in an artificial, scientific environment using DNA samples we collected from Krystal. They're part of an experiment to see if it's possible to combine the mental acuity of the Cerinian race with the physical advantages of a heavily augmented supersoldier."

Graves's eyes widened. "What kind of other implications does this have for our military forces?"

Ling replied, "Ethically, this is all wrong, but I believe that if we can compensate for the inaccuracies inherent in cloning, we can create a unit that would be nearly unstoppable. They would be born for the sole purpose of protecting Lylat, and they would completely overshadow everything ONYX has ever accomplished.

"Hey! Watch it, Ling!" the armored falcon seated next to Graves angrily hollered. "You would have never gotten to this point without ONYX."

"I am aware of that, Alpha 1," Ling sternly retorted. "This would be a highly secretive program, and I'm not entirely convinced that it would actually work if we went through with it. These Cerinians have incredibly powerful minds, and I'm not sure they'd be willing to fight for us."

Graves asked, "What will you do if the project fails?"

"One of two things, General," the panda replied, "We'll either kill them or give them to someone willing to adopt them." He paused before continuing, "But I hope to see this project work out. I've come to like them quite a bit. We haven't named them yet, but I'm starting to think of some appropriate titles for them."

"That's great, Ling," Graves snidely remarked, "But let's get back on track here. We need to do something to make sure that what happened over Fortuna does not repeat itself on Corneria. The death toll would be catastrophic beyond belief."

"I agree," Ling replied, "I think we may need to recommission the _Phaidon_. I know that ship had several experimental weapons onboard, including the most impressive cloaking system I've ever seen. I'm also aware that we've taken possession of the Ichtosian flagship. If we can repair it, it will definitely be a valuable asset to our cause."

"Indeed, it would," Graves concurred, "I'll make sure that my men repair the Ichtosian dreadnaught and have it working as soon as possible. You worry about the _Phaidon._"

"Affirmative, sir," Ling replied, lightly fondling the two Cerinian cubs that he held in his arms. "In the meantime, general; make sure that ONYX is ready for any kind of future action. However, cutting their training short is not an option."

"Will do, sir," Graves said with authority. "By the way, what happened to the ground troops on Fortuna? We never found any of them."

Xiao Ling's face assumed a stern, concerned countenance. "General, they were disintegrated."

* * *

Fox opened his eyes and awoke in the bed belonging to the small house which he had rented for himself while residing on Papetoon. He felt very sick and lightheaded, and he thought that he might vomit. The dream he had been pulled into the night before had done strange things to him, and he was no longer sure exactly which reality he was in. He remembered meeting Krystal on a beach and comforting her while she grieved over his supposed death. A fleeting smile broke through his illness now that he knew his future mate was aware that he was still alive.

He sat up in bed and immediately wished that he hadn't. His stomach was highly irritated by the move, and he almost instinctively sprinted to the nearby small bathroom and violently threw up into the toilet. His world continued to spin around him as he leaned up against a wall to support himself, and he soon collapsed to the bathroom floor. He had the entire house to himself, so no one was around to hear him fall. He immediately fell unconscious and blacked out.

He came to several hours later without knowing what time it was. He quickly glanced at the watch he had purchased for himself after arriving on Papetoon and saw that it was two in the afternoon. He had overslept significantly the night before, but he most likely needed the extra rest after his excruciating experience on Fortuna. Weakly, Fox pulled himself to his feet and staggered over to his bedside, where his new communication unit rested on a nearby nightstand. He had programmed the unit to match his stolen IA-42's communications I.D., and he saw that Peppy had sent him a message.

"_Fox, I've been thinking about what you said about General Graves, and I'm going to try to find a way to get you back to Corneria. I'm going to be putting a lot at stake, Fox; but I think it's the right thing to do."_

Fox breathed a sigh of relief after reading the message before he clumsily responded, "Thanks, Peppy. I appreciate it."

The vulpine still felt oppressively sick and was not in a good enough state of health to venture outside. He flopped down on his bed and gazed out the window to his left out into the dusty suburban neighborhood that he was residing in. The planet was not near as civilized as Corneria, and this suburb was about as good as it was going to get on Papetoon. A small cloud of dust breezed past his window as a male fox walked down a nearby suburban sidewalk with his young son in tow. The weakened pilot watched the two red vulpines pass by his window as a small tear formed in his eye.

Seeing the two foxes reminded him of the times he and his father had spent together in this very neighborhood. In fact, the house he used to live in was less than a mile from where he now rested. How things had changed over the years. James McCloud was gone forever, and Fox had risen up to take his place as the leader of Lylat's premier mercenary team. Over the years, he had gained experience, matured, and found a love that he thought he would never be able to have.

Now, he wondered if Star Fox's days were over. Slippy was in deep trouble with General Graves for helping Krystal disobey an executive order; and judging from the dream that had left him sick to his stomach, Fox knew that Krystal had finally found Iridium. Falco would probably take off and join up with another mercenary group if Fox made no attempt to reform Star Fox, leaving Fox alone in the Lylat System with no one to turn to. He remembered his own words from not too long ago, and they seemed to echo in his mind as he thought about them.

"_When this is all over, I'm putting the wraps over my Arwing and leaving it all behind._"

He suddenly realized that his own words had come true. His unflyable Arwing was still on the edge of the waterfall back on Fortuna, and his only transportation at the moment was the Ichtosian IA-42 that he had repaired at the Oikonny rebellion's former base. The war with Ichtos was over, but it was a hollow victory. Triumph had never tasted so bitter before. Apparently, it also tasted like vomit and abandonment. He had been left behind—left to die on Fortuna by the people he had risked his life for multiple times.

"_Am I really that worthless to the people of Corneria_?"

He wondered if anyone really cared about him at all. Even after he had made it known that he was alive, he had been denied access to Corneria. It felt like a flagrant smack across his face to be locked out of the planet that he called home; and he knew deep inside that General Graves couldn't have cared less about him. To Graves, he was an object; a weapon; a tool with which to achieve victory, only to be shelved and thrown away later. Such was the general's view of mercenaries.

He wanted to seek out Iridium and to find Krystal more than anything else, but he knew that he was not supposed to join her on the mysterious planet. The vulpine sadly admitted to himself that it would better for him to wait for her to return. Krystal knew that he was alive and waiting for her, and the only thing Fox could do now was wait. He lounged on the bed, looking up at the spinning ceiling fan for almost thirty more minutes before he reached over to the nightstand, picked up a TV remote, and switched on the large flatscreen television that hung on the wall across from the bed.

The channel that the TV had last been set to had just begun to air a program in which a number of historical experts discussed their findings and opinions regarding Andross's influence on the Lylat System. Fox keenly focused his eyes on the screen and listened to what the professors had to say about his former enemy.

"_Andross was, without a doubt, the first real threat to the safety of the Lylat System as a whole. Before him, conflicts were usually restricted to just one particular planet at a time; but he changed all that. His technology was so far ahead of anything else that he didn't even need numbers to help him—but that's not to say that he didn't have the military force to back it up, either."_

"_Andross had such a magnetic influence about him. He could convince nearly anyone that his cause was the right one, and I honestly think he believed that he was doing Lylat a favor by attacking it. He left a legacy behind him that I don't think will ever be forgotten. Call it the 'Andross Effect,' if you will. Whether it's for the better or not, the Lylat System will never be the same after him."_

"_I knew that ape when he was still respected by the people of Corneria. He was almost a celebrity. His scientific contributions—especially to the field of medicine—were mindboggling. Bionics, cybernetics, you name it—a lot of it was due to his work. I believe we have quite a lot to thank him for. At the same time, it seems so strange that he would snap the way he did. I suppose the restrictions of a 'normal' civilization were too much for him. He probably had something greater in mind than what already existed. Perhaps what he was looking for couldn't coexist with the Cornerian Federation the way that it was. We'll never know what he really wanted now, but we'll definitely never forget about him."_

The television program soon cut to a commercial break, and Fox lazily switched the TV to another channel, which was broadcasting a previously recorded daytime talk show. Fox's eyes widened when he saw that the tigress host's guest for the segment was none other than Krystal. She had never told him about her one-time television appearance.

The vixen strutted across the wooden studio floor in front of the small audience and crossed her legs in the white cloth chair that was provided for her. She was clad in a beautiful, short red dress that Fox had only seen her wear once before.

The tigress cordially spoke_, "Good morning, Miss Krystal,"_

"_Good morning."_

"_Well, let me start with the basics—how do you like being a pilot with the Star Fox team? I mean, that's pretty sexy if you think about it."_

"_I suppose it is sexy," _Krystal replied with a shy smile that displayed her beautiful white teeth._ "To tell you the truth, I love it. It's given me a place to call home. My wingmen are great. They're really fun to be around."_

"_Speaking of your wingmen, what do think about Fox? You know, he was voted the "sexiest man in Lylat" last year. I'm actually really jealous of you right now. Man, I'd do anything to get some 'alone time' with him, if you know what I mean."_

Krystal shyly giggled, but she quickly shot back_, "Not if I'm around."_

The audience made a series of "Oh" sounds, and the tigress hosting the show raised her eyebrows. _"Well," she said, "You're quite a lucky lady, Krystal. If you don't mind telling me, have you ever mated with Fox?"_

"_Not yet," _she replied with a cunning grin.

The tigress laughed slightly, then loudly told her,_ "Girl, don't lose that fox!"_

"_I won't," _said Krystal with a beautiful, innocent smile.

The host began to wrap up the first on-air portion of the show before the scheduled commercial break. _"All right! After this short break, we'll talk to Krystal about what she does when she's not flying with Star Fox; and later, she'll show us her tattoos and explain the meaning behind them. Don't go anywhere!"_

Fox leaned back against the pillows that rested against his bed's headboard and continued to fix his weary eyes on the television screen. For the next twenty minutes, he watched the feminine talk show, never once diverting his attention from Krystal. Seeing her on the television caused him to realize just how beautiful she was in person. It also stunned him how different she looked now. Her fur when she had recorded the TV show was definitely lighter than it was now; and her face seemed to lack a certain radiance that it now possessed. Even more, the form of Krystal that Fox had seen in his dream had caused his heart to flutter at her mere appearance. Her hair was longer, she was more shapely than before (if that was possible), and her entire being seemed to emit an aura radiating peace and tranquility. He remembered her touch from his dream and sighed in his bed. So soft, and so gentle.

The Archetype had told him that she would be different by the time their adventures would draw to a close; and while Fox initially feared what she might become, he was beginning to like the direction her slight transformation was taking.

Fox continued to watch the television as Krystal detailed her various hobbies and pastimes, including pencil art, meditation, fitness, swimming, and the esoteric combat techniques handed down to her by her predecessors. She also mentioned that she had taken an interest in possibly learning how to play the violin in the future.

"_Maybe I should buy one for her as a gift for when she comes back_," Fox thought with a smile.

For the final portion of the show, Krystal re-entered the studio in a white string bikini in order to show and explain the significance of the tribal sun tattoos on her thighs. Fox quickly wiped away a drop of saliva that managed to slip out of the corner of his mouth as he shamelessly stared at her. Not that she would have minded, anyway.

The host asked, "_So, Krystal, what do those mean? Did they hurt when you got them?"_

Krystal smiled and answered, "_You have no idea how much it hurt. These aren't tattoos like the ones here on Corneria. Tattoos on Cerinia were applied with an inked branding iron."_

The tigress and the audience behind Krystal winced at the thought of the excruciating pain that Krystal must have suffered through. "_Damn! That's painful!"_

"_I know,_" Krystal replied.

"_Can you explain what they mean, Krystal?"_ the host enquired.

"_Absolutely. The bands on my arms signify that I'm part of the Cerinian warrior class, and the sun tattoos on my legs mean that I'm a member of the Cerinian royal family."_

"_So, you're a princess?" _the host incredulously asked.

"_I suppose so."_

"_That is amazing, Krystal," _the tigress replied before turning and looking directly into the camera._ "Fox McCloud, if you're watching this, marry this girl NOW!"_

Fox looked down at his left paw as Krystal stood up, shook the host's paw, and left the studio. The vulpine smiled as he viewed the silver wedding band that had formerly belonged to his father. Krystal had presented it to him shortly before they returned to the _Cardinal _in preparation for the fateful battle of Fortuna. The most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on had pledged her hand in marriage to him, and nothing in the world could have possibly make him any happier.

He looked up at the ceiling again and softly said, "Krystal, I know you probably can't hear me, but I just want to say how much I love you. I'll wait for you forever if that's how long it takes for me to see you again."

Following that, he slowly slid off the bed and dressed himself in a new set of mercenary clothes that he had bought for himself the day before. The clothes were a significant departure from the attire he had been favoring lately, and their style hearkened back to his days in the Lylat Wars. Both the jacket and pants he had put on were dyed black with red outlines, and they were made of a heavy-duty waterproof fabric that was guaranteed not to rip even under the most extreme conditions. His cargo pants had several large pockets for his wallet and any other valuables, and they also featured convenient straps for holding sidearms, grenades, and knives. He picked up his blaster from beside his bed and posed with it in front of the mirror above his dresser, admiring his new appearance.

His stomach felt slightly more at ease than it had before, and Fox felt that he would be able to venture outside. He picked up his old clothes and carried them in his arms as he exited his rented homestead and slowly trudged toward the machine shop where his IA-42 had been re-chipped and repainted in the colors of the Star Fox team. The new IFF tags that the guerrilla mechanics on Papetoon had inserted into the fighter would allow Fox to travel freely through the Lylat System without the risk of being identified as a hostile target.

After stopping in at a nearby fast food restaurant and eating an inexpensive and unhealthy lunch, he finished his trip to the garage, where an ape mechanic approached him and gruffly said, "Your ship's ready, McCloud. The total's gonna be 440 credits."

"Don't rip me off, pal," Fox harshly replied. "I know a place on Corneria that would do this for 250 at the most. Hey, wait a minute! You used to work for Wolf in the Sargasso region!"

"Yeah? So what?"

"How's the big guy doing?"

"He's gone back to Eledard with the lizard and that annoying cat," the silver-furred ape replied. "Those nosy Cornerians ran us out of our base four months ago. Why the hell should you care, anyway?"

"I'm just wondering," Fox defensively answered. "Now, drop the fee to 380 or I'm going to sue you for gouging me."

"Oh fine!" the mechanic griped. "380 it is then, Fox McCloud."

"That's better," he grimly said as he handed the ape his silver credit card, which he quickly swiped and returned to him.

Shortly thereafter, the ape led Fox out of the garage area into the fenced-in back lot, where his fighter was parked next to a well-worn M-class relic from the Lylat Wars. The vulpine thanked the unruly mechanic for his services and climbed aboard the freshly-painted IA-42 before pressing the ignition button, prompting the red dashboard display to light up. "Veratico Drive Yards" appeared in bold print on the readout before the interface switched over to its list of in-flight commands. After taking one last look around the surface of his birth planet, Fox fired the fighter's powerful engines and left the planet behind him.

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

_The end of Part 1 is only a few more chapters away, which means that I'm running out of pre-written chapters to post. Unfortunately, that also means that after Chapter 25, the posting intervals are most likely going to become much more spread out. Sadly, Oasis postings will probably suffer as a result of this, too. It's unfortunate, but I haven't been able to write as much as I would like recently. However, my ultimate priority on FF dot net is to complete this story, however long it ends up taking.  
_

_Also, the total view count for The Iridium Chronicle has reached (near as makes no difference) 5,000 views. Thanks for your support, everyone!  
_


	21. Chapter 21: Aeon

**Chapter 21: Aeon**

Date and Time: April 22, 10 ALW, 8:30 A.M.

Krystal's world came back into focus as she exited her deep, lucid dream. She found herself lying in a white bed in a completely empty white room. Her bed was positioned inside a white rectangular liner, and the top of the mattress was flush with the top of the frame. She was still undressed as before. The blue vixen sat up in bed and noticed a white tablet device, which she picked up and curiously held with her paws. The words "_Yaulti-aux Krystal_" were displayed on the screen in her native Cerinian language. This message translated to "Good morning, Aeon," in Lylatian. Krystal slid her finger across the tablet's display and unlocked the unit, bringing up a list of commands for the room.

She quickly selected the "wardrobe" option from the list, and a panel on the white back wall slid open. The vixen eagerly climbed out of bed onto the glossy, white, plastic-like floor and softly walked into her new closet. Her old jumpsuit had been hung up for her, and her undergarments were neatly folded in a drawer below. However, her attention was immediately drawn to an unfamiliar white garment that looked far too small for her. She correctly guessed that it was a stretchy article of clothing that was designed to conform to the wearer's shape, and she stepped into it the through the neck with some difficulty.

It was a challenge to pull her tail through the back, but she eventually succeeded and exited the closet. She returned to the tablet and selected "mirror," causing the right wall to take on a highly reflective property. She gazed at herself in the mirrored surface, somewhat uncomfortably admiring the way her new attire followed her every curve. The white suit she was wearing felt to her like a second skin and was intended to be more comfortable than wearing nothing at all. Small hexagons were printed on its white cloth surface, and two long black rails ran up and down its sides. These were designed as convenient places to clip on specially-designed battle armor components.

Krystal tested several other options from her tablet's menu, including 'bath,' which caused part of the floor to open up, revealing a shallow pool of clear water; and 'windows,' which caused the room's left wall to become transparent. The vixen gazed through the clear wall and realized that the building she was in was underwater. Part of her wondered if she was still dreaming; however, she was fully conscious and completely aware of her surroundings.

To the right of her bed was what appeared to be a sliding door panel. It perfectly matched the wall it was built into, and it featured a motion-sensor pad that would cause the door to open if its user swiped his or her paw in front of it. The vixen casually waved to the sensor, causing the door to open for her. The hallway outside was decorated with the same colors as her room, with the exception of some red trim pieces that ran down the length of the walls at roughly the height of Krystal's waistline. She noticed a large, circular room with a rubbery, red floor that was filled with weights and training weapons, and she curiously stepped inside to investigate.

She noticed what appeared to be a number of silver staffs that were neatly organized on a rack in front of the room's left wall (at least, it would have been the left wall if the room hadn't been curved). Curious about the items, she picked one of them up, gave it a quick test, and found it to be very similar in weight to her own staff; which she had temporarily forgotten about. "_Oh no! I must have left it in the room where I went to sleep!" _she anxiously thought.

Now fretting about her staff, Krystal continued to explore her new surroundings, which had a similar feel to the area of Iridium where she had landed. Dirt and dust in the building were virtually nonexistent, and the noise level was deathly quiet. The blue vixen's cloth-covered feet created hushed pattering noises on the floor as she slowly examined the building.

She noticed a display panel on one of the hallway walls and closely studied it. From what the readout could explain to her, the building also contained a kitchen, a hangar, a medical area, a lounge, and an armory in addition to the training room she had entered earlier. Curiously, a red dot was blinking over the location of the armory. Trying to force the layout of the building into her mind, she began walking toward the armory, passing the kitchen along the way. The closer she moved to the room, the more she could feel the overpowering mental energy coming from the Archetype.

Upon arriving at the armory's entrance, Krystal swiped her paw across the white door's motion sensor and stepped inside. The room was very long and had a lower ceiling than the rest of the structure. It was cluttered with all forms of exotic armor and weaponry; and in the center of the room stood the spectral vulpine now known as the Archetype.

"Welcome, my daughter."

"How did I get here?" Krystal anxiously asked in reply.

The gray vulpine simply answered, "That is not relevant at this time. You are here, and that is all that matters. Come closer."

The blue vixen nervously walked up to the figure of the Archetype, who simply stood in place, making no movements of any kind. He was only four inches taller than her, but she felt like he towered over her as if he were more than seven feet tall. She quickly glanced up at his platinum-colored eyes, then quickly lowered her gaze to his feet out of fear.

"Why are you afraid of me?" the vulpine softly asked her.

"I…I don't know," Krystal whimpered. "You remind me of someone I used to know."

"Your father, no doubt," he muttered. "Arateus was a good man, and he died honorably."

With her head still lowered, the vixen sorrowfully asked, "Why did Cerinia have to be destroyed? They were all innocent people."

Solemnly, the Archetype replied, "It is not for me to answer that question. Some things were never meant to be fully revealed. All I can say is that it had to be done. If Cerinia had not been destroyed, you would not be here right now." The gray vulpine continued, "Your loss has made you strong, Krystal. I promise you that Cerinia was not destroyed in vain. There is only one thing that holds you back now."

"What's that?"

"Your fears," he replied. "You must overcome them, or you will never have a chance against the enemy you must face. Your enemy feeds on fear and rules on vengeance."

"How can I do that?" Krystal poignantly asked. "I've tried to block my fears, but they won't go away."

The Archetype seemed to smile out of pity for the Cerinian vixen. "My daughter, please understand that fear is not something you can simply block. You must face it order to defeat it. Courage and bravery can only exist in the face of fear. Without it, there is nothing. I know you can do it, Krystal. You were chosen for a reason." He paused and grabbed something off of a nearby table; and Krystal let out a cry of joy when she realized that it was her staff.

"My staff!" she exclaimed, taking it back from the Archetype. Krystal examined the ancient Cerinian weapon to make sure that nothing had been damaged in any way before she noticed that the power cells on the bottom of the staff had been altered significantly. "What did you do to it?" she worriedly asked the Archetype, concerned that he might have damaged it.

The silver vulpine answered, "I installed a new power unit that will allow you to channel your thought energy into the weapon. However, you are not ready to use it just yet."

"What do I have to do before I can use it?" asked the vixen.

"Patience, Krystal. You will learn in due time. Now, though, you will need to be fitted for your new armor. As you might have noticed, your mantle—as it's called—has two clip rails which you can attach armor plating to. Because of the unique nature of the armor, it will need to be tailored specifically for you. Step onto that platform over there, please."

Krystal obeyed and walked over to the machine which the Archetype had pointed out and stood up straight with her arms held out horizontally. Red lasers from both the front and the side danced across her figure three times before the machine emitted a 'ding' sound, indicating that it had finished scanning her physical proportions to guarantee the proper fit for her armor.

"Perfect," said the silver vulpine, "Your armor will be ready soon. While you wait, I suggest you eat something."

The Archetype led Krystal back down the hall she had come from into the kitchen area, where he beckoned for Krystal to take a seat at a small, square table that matched the glossy white colors of the rest of the building. While the spectral silver fox prepared a drink and a small meal for his guest, Krystal used the lapse in conversation to think back on everything that had brought her to this point.

First and foremost, she remembered the dream she had experienced just before the Battle of Katina. It seemed like it had taken place ages ago. She had been so worried about her future, but now, she finally felt at ease. Fox was safe, the war with Ichtos was over, and she was finally where she was supposed to be.

The blue vixen carefully scanned her figure, which was completely revealed by the skin-tight apparel she was wearing, and noticed that she was slightly trimmer than she remembered herself being in the past. "_Fox would love to see me now,_" she thought as the Archetype placed a drink glass and a plate of raw fish on the table in front of her.

"Thank you, sir," said Krystal, sinking her teeth into the tasty meal of fish that her host had prepared for her. She tried to eat correctly in front of the regal vulpine, but she hadn't had anything to eat since she arrived on Iridium and was completely starved as a result. She quickly devoured both large fish and let out a quiet burp that caused her to cover her mouth in embarrassment. "Sorry," she apologized.

"No apology needed," the Archetype replied. "You must have been hungry."

Krystal simply nodded her head and set to work downing the glass filled with an orange liquid that tasted exactly like her favorite drink from Cerinia. It was the same liquid that she had attempted to make for Fox after Star Fox was assigned to the _Cardinal_; except that instead of a mediocre imitation, this was the real thing. The vixen practically chugged the tangy, sweet beverage, causing several drops to run down her muzzle. She quickly wiped them away after setting her glass on the table and then licked her lips in satisfaction.

"Thank you," she happily said to the Archetype. "That was wonderful."

"It's my pleasure, my daughter," he replied. "Now, follow me."

Krystal quickly asked, "Where are we going?" but the only response she received from the Archetype was, "That is not relevant right now, Krystal."

Somewhat frustrated by her host's tendency towards nondisclosure and his continued use of the phrase she had just heard, she followed the silver vulpine down the hallway that ran past the circular training room until the hall cut to the left. The two foxes passed the room Krystal had woken up in before they passed through an open doorway which led to a hangar of sorts. Several sleek, curved-winged fighters rested in their respective docking ports alongside a small number of slightly larger transport crafts. At the very end of the hangar, a two-way shield door had been raised to prevent the water outside the hangar from flooding into the building.

The Archetype led Krystal down a series of staircases and up another one which lead to the first transport on the left side of the hangar. The silver fox indicated for Krystal to enter the craft before him, and the blue vixen obediently complied and seated herself in the co-pilot's seat on the right side of the craft. The Archetype then closed the entry door behind him and sat in the pilot's seat before starting the transport and preparing to leave the hangar.

The silver fox slowed the transport before it exited the hangar in preparation for the change in density between the air and the water they would be entering. He then flipped a switch to the left of the ship's control yoke that primed the engines for maritime use as the silver transport almost effortlessly left the hangar and entered the deep, clear waters of the Iridian ocean. The Archetype pulled up on the flight stick, causing the craft to ascend in the water before it broke the surface and began to fly as a normal craft would have. For miles around them, only water could be seen.

Turning to her host, Krystal begged him, "Please, tell me where we're going."

The gray vulpine gave no reply at first, but then he slowly turned his head and gazed at her with his glowing silver eyes. "There are a few things I need to give you," he solemnly said.

The vixen dared not ask any more questions after her first enquiry. She slouched back in the co-pilot's seat and attempted to decipher the Archetype's high-functioning, esoteric thought patterns, which completely inundated her mind with a form of power she had never felt from anyone else before.

She felt herself making a mental connection with him, although this was only because he was consciously allowing her to do so. If the need arose, he could completely shut her out without so much as a second thought. Krystal closed her eyes and intensely focused, trying to draw out his thoughts into her own mind. For a fleeting second, she caught the faintest glimpse of what seemed to be an emotion vaguely reminiscent of regret. The vulpine's expression was as stoic and sober as ever, but an almost indiscernible fleck of grief crossed his lips.

Krystal attempted to dig deeper into his mind, but further access to his thoughts and memories was denied. The vixen quickly snapped her eyes open to the sight of the Archetype staring at her with a sad, understanding frown. She looked down at her cloth-covered feet to avoid gazing at her host as the ocean below them began to turn to shoreline. In the distance, the spire and the towers she had seen in her latest dream began to become visible; and soon, the Archetype began to pilot the transport ship towards the forest just outside the complex.

At first, Krystal wondered what he was doing, but soon, a section of the grassy ground opened up below them and allowed the Archetype to lower the transport into a small hangar that had been built into the ground outside the spire and the three towers. The silver fox opened the ship's side door and motioned for Krystal to exit the craft before he closed the door behind him and began to lead the vixen down a long tunnel into the catacombs underneath the spire. The lights in the underground area were of a bright red color, and the blood-red conduits Krystal had first seen in her initial vision before the Battle of Katina were present in many places on the walls.

In the red light that bathed the halls with its eerie radiance, the Archetype walked up to a large blast door and directed his attention to a touch-activated panel below and to the right of the door. He placed his living hand on the sensor, and after the machine recognized the presence of its system's Head Administrator, it opened the door for both him and Krystal and allowed them to enter the room.

The "room," which was in reality an enormous underground hangar, was completely unlit. Pitch darkness enveloped the room, which seemed to contain something that could only vaguely be distinguished. Krystal saw the outline of a large metallic wing breaking through the blackness just as the Archetype flipped a switch inside the door frame, causing the cavernous space's bright red lights to activate.

Krystal's jaw hung agape and her eyes widened as she stared at what was now clearly visible. In the space before her was an enormous silver battleship that seemed to exude power and magnificence from every angle. The ship's wings were angled forward at a 30 degree angle, and two angled tail fins protruded from its heavily armored hull. Two large railguns were attached to the underside of the battleship's hull, and the sides of the ship sported several smaller armaments that were designed to take down any fighters that might have hoped to launch an attack on the large warship.

"This is _Khaimaira_," the Archetype solemnly explained. "It was built long ago in expectation of what was to come. I hoped that it would never have to be used, but it appears as though it must finally be activated. It belongs to you now."

"W…What?!"

"Yes, my daughter. The ship was built for the last of the Threefold before anyone could ever know what he would face in the future. It is yours to use however you choose."

"I don't know what to say…" Krystal replied, shocked that her host would choose to entrust such a powerful weapon to her. "I don't deserve it. I'm just a girl from Cerinia."

The Archetype harshly retorted, "Silence. Banish those lies from your mind this instant. You are much more than that, and no one I could ever think of deserves this gift more than you do." The silver vulpine paused and seemed to grow slightly despondent before he continued on in a voice that seemed almost broken. It was strange to see the usually-powerful being reduced to this level.

"The night your mother and father were killed, I appeared to them and explained that you had been chosen. But what they said left a permanent impression on me…"

"What did they say?" Krystal feebly asked as tears began to well up in her eyes.

In an unusual moment of weakness and vulnerability, the Archetype lowered his head and replied, "They told me they already knew. They said that you were the most wonderful person they could have ever hoped to meet and that you were destined for great things."

Krystal sobbed uncontrollably and fell into the Archetype's grasp without even remotely caring about his lifeless arm that he draped around her back while trying to comfort her. The Archetype continued, "They're so proud of you right now, Krystal." The miserable vixen cried even harder, and her tears soaked the Archetype's silver robe just below his neckline.

In a moment, he stopped caressing Krystal's back and soberly said, "There is only one more thing left to do here. Follow me." The gray vulpine slowly began to walk out of the hangar area back into the catacombs with Krystal in tow. It was barely perceptible, but the Cerinian could sense uneasiness emanating from her host. He was walking more slowly than usual, and his tail was held lower than it had been before. Something was clearly bothering him, although she knew better than to ask him. She knew that in time, she would find out what it was that was on his mind.

Her host brought her to what appeared to be an elevator and pressed a button marked with an upwards-facing arrow, causing the silver and red doors to open. Krystal and the Archetype slowly stepped onto the elevator, and the silver fox pressed the button that indicated the top floor of the building. The small enclosure shot up with an uncanny lack of drama that surprised Krystal somewhat; especially considering the speed at which the elevator was traveling.

Without a sound, the elevator came to a stop on the top floor, and the doors opened. Upon exiting the elevator, Krystal immediately recognized the room as the wide, rounded area near the top of the spire that she had seen in her most recent dream. Somewhat hesitantly, the Archetype stepped towards the staircase below the sign marked 'High Iridium,' and Krystal closely followed him as he ascended the stairs. Her pulse began to rise at the realization that she was about to enter the triangular chamber she had already found herself in twice—except that this time, she would be entering it in person.

The Archetype stopped in front of the metallic gray door and looked down at his sandaled feet before Krystal quickly noticed her host's sorrow and thoughtfully asked, "What's wrong?"

His voice was drenched with misery and sorrow as he spoke. "I wish I didn't have to do this. It's more than you should have to face."

Krystal gave no response; she merely lowered her eyes as the Archetype continued, "Krystal, whatever happens to you, please don't ever lose yourself."

The Cerinian curiously asked, "Why did you say that?"

As the Archetype pushed open the door to the High Iridium chamber, he turned back to look at her and replied, "The last time I ever gave someone what I am about to give to you, he became obsessed with his own power and corrupted himself, his people, and the entire Iridian race. As the last living Iridian who has not been corrupted, you are the only person I can allow into this room." For a moment, he paused before whispering, "Come with me."

Krystal followed the silver vulpine into the triangular room, which was lit only by the circular device in the center of the room. Wearing the most solemn expression possible, the Archetype stood next to Krystal directly in front of the rounded interface that radiated a shade of bright blue into the air around it. A few wispy vapors seemed to rise from the screen, which had a haunting air about it and seemed to be alive in and of itself.

The Archetype soberly asked, "Are you ready, my daughter? There is no turning back after this."

Krystal nervously nodded her head. Her body trembled as she viewed the glowing blue display with the figure of the Iridium Triangle prominently displayed on it in white. With a stern, concerned voice, the Archetype said, "Close your eyes, Krystal."

The vixen obeyed her host, and she shut her soft, sea-green eyes as he firmly yet gently gripped her left wrist and placed it onto the blue display. She felt a burning sensation in her left paw, and the intense heat began to migrate up her arm. Her breathing became taxed and rapid, and she began to gasp for air as the feeling began to spread across her body. When it reached her upper chest, she screamed in pain and attempted to pull away from the interface; but the Archetype held her fast and prevented her from moving. The searing agony moved down her torso and into her legs as the blue vixen's screams rose to an ear-splitting level.

So great was the pain that she felt as if she would die. "LET ME GO!" she screamed as the burning sensation finally worked its way up her spinal cord and into her brain. Even though her eyes remained closed, tears began to fill up in them before they managed to escape and run down her face. With her free hand, she clutched at her chest and let out one final shriek of pain and agony.

With that, the pain ceased, and she felt the Archetype release his grip on her arm. The vixen opened her eyes and noticed that blue vapors were slowly rising off of her body and her tight-fitting clothes, which felt intolerably hot due to the ferocious heat generated by the Archetype's procedure. She quickly dropped to the ground and sat with her legs crossed as she surveyed the effects of what she had been subjected to. She noticed that her fur seemed to have taken on a slightly metallic quality, and she felt as if her muscles had been significantly stimulated.

The Archetype's face broke into a deep, sympathetic smile as he looked into Krystal's green eyes, which were now glowing brightly in the surrounding darkness.

"What happened to me?" Krystal breathlessly asked her host.

The Archetype replied, "You have been granted access to the High Iridium dialect of the Glyphic Code. With this ability, you will be able to mentally manipulate machinery and penetrate the minds of even the most guarded individuals. Most importantly, you are now completely immune to anything the Revnites are capable of bringing against you. I know you will use your new talents well, Krystal. For now, though, you need to rest and prepare yourself for what lies ahead."

"What's that?" she inquisitively asked.

The Archetype's familiar words seemed to echo inside the triangle-shaped room as he spoke, "That is not relevant at this time, my daughter. Right now, all I am asking you to do is to make yourself comfortable."

"I will," she happily answered as she stood up and left the chamber before riding the building's elevator to the ground floor and stepping out into the fresh midday air of Iridium. The vixen joyfully sprinted across the soft, green grass that felt sublime under her feet; and she soon felt the grass turning to sand as the peaceful ocean waves came into view. Without hesitation, she pulled off her mantle and leapt into the brisk waters of the Iridian ocean. Immediately, she felt the heat from the Archetype's procedure vanish as if it had never existed. She played in the waves for a short time before lying down on the beach and closing her eyes as if to sleep. The procedure she had undergone had almost completely drained her of energy; and soon, she fell away into the realm of sleep and dreamt of her future husband as an unconscious smile crossed her lips.

* * *

Somewhere on the outer edge of the Lylat System…

"_All for us… everything in the universe exists for us…"_

_We were created to bring order to this universe in which we live, whether it is sought after by its people or not. Until all can be united as one, order can never truly exist. As the last of my kind, I feel a tremendous sense of duty and obligation to my forefathers, especially my grandfather. He was the first to recognize that the Archetype of Iridium—the one who claimed to be superior to us—was holding back the secrets of eternal life so he could keep himself above us. The one who was supposed to wisely govern his people was condemning them to an end that never needed to take place. _

_My grandfather realized this, and he risked his life to challenge the Archetype. When war broke out between his people and those who supported the Archetype in his hypocrisy, he led the fight; and he personally executed the bastard who offered to sacrifice himself to stop the fighting. It was noble for the Archetype to do that, I suppose. _

_With him gone, our brothers and sisters on Iridium began to understand that life was never meant to end. They realized—just as we did—that we could all live together as one, forever._

_Death was never supposed to be the end. Such an unfair way to leave this existence, it is. Surely life was not meant to end in a meaningless death, and immortality was never supposed to be held back from anyone. It's sad that the Archetype never understood that. _

_It is my wish that all would come to the same realization as me and the people of Revnus. With open arms, I welcome any who wish to partake in the joys of immortality alongside me and the millions of souls who were liberated by my lovely Aparoids. It must have seemed so cruel to them at the time, but they feel no more pain now. The Database is their new home, and as time goes on, many more will be added to their ranks. When all is finished, I will join them; and we will all live together in peace._

_The destruction of the Aparoid Queen was like a dagger in my heart. It was almost as if those I wished to save were flagrantly ignoring my invitation. Instead, they decided to consign themselves to death. They will have one more chance to redeem themselves. If they reject my invitation this time, I will no longer show them any mercy. When the world crumbles around them and everything they ever loved dies, they will cry for me to forgive them; but I never will. They will have missed their last chance for redemption._

_The damage caused by that wretched ship is almost repaired now, and the time for Nightfall is drawing nearer. Please do not resist me this time. This is not sacrifice—it is evolution._

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):__I know these last couple of chapters on Planet Iridium were pretty strange, so bear with me. If you found the supernatural elements a bit disconcerting, don't worry- 'normality' returns next chapter and stays that way for quite a while. The next two chapters are where it all finally comes to a head, so don't go anywhere!  
_


	22. Chapter 22: Countdown

**Chapter 22: Countdown**

Date and Time: April 22, 10 ALW, 1:05 P.M.

The beautiful blue world of Corneria finally appeared through the reinforced glass canopy of Fox's commandeered IA-42 fighter which now bore the colors and emblems of the Star Fox team. The numerous Cornerian warships of various types lazily circled the planet, preventing any and all space traffic from leaving the planet. "Dang, Krystal," Fox muttered under his breath after realizing how much of a feat it was for her to have broken through the blockade.

In a moment, he opened his communications channel and contacted Peppy. "Peppy, I'm looking at the blockade right now. Have you worked out a way to let me in yet?"

Peppy seemed to let out a quiet groan from the other end of the line before he uneasily answered, "Yes, Fox; I did. There's just one thing, though—don't land at the Corneria City military base. There's a small town called Admen 50 miles from the city. Land there instead. Falco will be waiting for you there, and he'll explain the rest."

"Got it, Peppy. And by the way, thanks for helping me out."

"No problem, Fox," Peppy replied with an almost breathless voice before his transmission was replaced with that of a Cornerian marine.

"Fox McCloud, you have been granted clearance from the General to enter the planet. Proceed directly to the Corneria City military base and follow all standard landing procedures."

Fox insincerely answered, "Yes, sir," and took a path towards the city before veering off at the last possible moment and heading west towards the small town of Admen where Peppy had ordered him to land. Fox had a sneaking suspicion that Peppy had possibly placed himself in a very dangerous position. He knew that Graves, of all people, would never break his own protocol and allow a mercenary to enter the blockaded planet. Even more suspicious was that the marine had just told him that the _General—_not Peppy—had allowed him to bypass the blockade. Fox grimly smiled and thought, "_You're great, Peppy._"

After breaking through the Cornerian cloud cover, Fox made a course for the small seaside village and located three asphalt landing pads just outside the town square. Falco's S-20 was already parked in one of the spots, and the avian was standing next to the craft with his arms crossed in anticipation of his leader's arrival. Slowly, Fox lowered his IA-42 into a landing position next to Falco's ship and climbed from the cockpit.

Surprised at the sight of Fox's new fighter, Falco jovially asked, "Where'd you get your new toy, Foxie?"

"The Ichtosians left it behind in the base on Fortuna. I think Slippy had something to do with it. Speaking of Slippy, I heard that he's in trouble."

"Oh man!" Falco exclaimed, "He's screwed! General Graves already suspended his mercenary license and took his fighter from him. He's got a date with the judge in Superior Court in about two weeks from now for what he did."

"He's in that much trouble for helping Krystal?" Fox incredulously asked.

"Fox, Krystal disobeyed an executive order! That's punishable by death! It's almost a miracle that Slippy doesn't get life in prison for helping her!"

"Oh man," Fox muttered. "Is there _anything_ we can do to help him?"

"I don't think so, Fox," Falco grimly replied.

The avian pilot watched as Fox's expression gradually twisted into a spiteful, angry scowl; and he knew exactly who his hatred was being directed towards—General Graves.

"Falco, what did Peppy do to let me through the blockade?"

Very quietly, Falco stepped closer to Fox's ear and whispered, "He forged a document in Graves's name and sent it to the colonel in charge of keeping the blockade up."

Fox's eyes widened. What Peppy had done carried a punishment that would have landed him in prison until he died. "No way…"

"Way," Falco sternly replied. "If the General would've had things his way, you would have never gotten near Corneria."

Fox angrily stamped his foot on the ground and snarled, "Well, what the hell are we going to do now?"

"I don't know, Fox," Falco replied. "But I _am_ glad that you're okay."

"Yeah, well—thanks, Falco."

With very little else to do, the two pilots meandered around the town square and looked at the numerous buildings that were roughly twenty years behind the architectural trends of Corneria City. Mainly farmers lived in the seaside village, which was a well-kept secret to the vacationing community thanks to its comfortable atmosphere that exchanged the frivolous technological advancements of Corneria City and Southport for the humble charms of the country. The smell of the fresh sea air without the city's contaminants was refreshing to Fox, and he actually began to like the small town of Admen.

He and Falco wandered over to a fruit stand, where a lovely red vixen was seated in front of a mobile cash register. She wore a red gingham shirt and short jean shorts that gave her a charming, rough-and-tumble appearance that appealed to Fox in a way that the fashionably-dressed city dwellers could not. In a way, her old-fashioned clothes vaguely reminded him of the first time he met Krystal. There was no pretense whatsoever to the red vixen; and her willful decision to remain out of touch with the times brought an air of innocence to her figure.

Standing next to her was a dark-furred vulpine wearing a blue checkered shirt and faded jeans. A straw hat was placed on his head, and his ears poked out of the two slots on the brim. Somehow, Fox felt like he had seen him before—somewhere….

"May I help you?" the vixen courteously asked Fox and Falco.

"Oh… um, sure," Fox uncomfortably replied. "We'd like a bag of oranges, please."

"How big of a bag do you want?"

Fox scratched the back of his head and answered, "Whatever most people normally get."

The vixen quickly set to work placing a total of ten oranges into a red mesh bag before handing it to Fox and telling him, "That'll be 7 credits, Mr. McCloud."

Fox blushed slightly at the mention of his name as he pulled out a number of credit chips and handed them to the vixen while Falco remarked, "Looks like someone's popular with the ladies."

"Can it, Falco! I'm engaged to Krystal! Don't say things like that!" he retorted as the vixen behind the counter smiled and added, "I think you and Krystal are a cute couple. What did she do, anyway? I heard something on the news about her being wanted by the Cornerian Army."

Fox's countenance sank as he answered, "I don't want to talk about it."

The vixen understandingly nodded and said, "Have a nice day, you two."

Fox was about to turn away, when he noticed the dark-furred male fox behind the counter staring at his IA-42 with what seemed to be a look of longing and regret. Returning his gaze to the vulpine, Fox snapped, "What are you looking at?"

"Oh—it's nothing, sir," the vulpine replied in a voice that Fox had definitely heard before. Very suspiciously, he stared deep into the dark fox's eyes; and he immediately made the connection. Fox's eyes widened, and his paws instinctively reached for the blaster that was slung over his shoulder. He didn't draw his weapon, but he was more than prepared to unleash his fury on the figure that he believed was none other than the Supreme Commander of Icthos.

The other vulpine immediately took notice of Fox's precautionary movements and told the vixen, "Silvia, I'll be right back; I have to go to the bathroom." Quickly, he left the fruit stand and sprinted towards a nearby public restroom in a silver building around 30 yards away from where he had just been standing. Fox was not buying his excuse in the least. The vixen begged, "Please! Don't hurt him!" but Fox completely ignored her and slowly walked towards the restroom in pursuit of the suspicious vulpine.

Fortunately for Fox, the public restroom had no door; which meant that his prey couldn't lock him out. The leader of Star Fox slowly drew his blaster and stepped into the dirty room that smelled badly of urine. There was only one exit, and Fox knew that he had his prey cornered. He lowered himself closer to the ground without contaminating his clothes by touching the floor; and he saw that the second stall on the left was occupied. The vulpine was merely sitting down on the toilet as if it were a chair. His pants were still fastened, and Fox almost laughed out loud to spite the vulpine for his pathetic attempt at escape.

Without further ado, he calmly walked up to the stall door and raised his left leg. Then, with great force, he slammed his heavy boot into the door and forced it open. The dark red vulpine inside the stall looked up at him with an expression that belied the tremendous fear he was actually feeling. He seemed calm and collected in spite of what could have been his imminent death.

Fox pointed his blaster at him and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the dark vulpine calmly said, "I suppose you're going to kill me now."

"No. Not yet," Fox growled. "First, I want an explanation for why you attacked the Lylat System. Then, I want to know who you really are."

"My name's all over the news," he replied, stoic as ever. "Where have you been?"

"I was left for dead on Fortuna," Fox answered with a powerful rasp that recalled his father's voice. "Now, tell me why you attacked us!"

The former Supreme Commander unaffectedly explained, "It's not what you think it is."

"Oh really?" Fox snapped, "Then what is it? You've been responsible thousands of deaths in the Lylat System! You'd better have a good answer!"

Instead of giving Fox the answer he was waiting for, the dark red vulpine replied with a question of his own. "Tell me, Fox McCloud—don't you ever wish that things could be the way they were before your father died?"

Fox roared, "Don't bring my father into this!" but the Commander's words had struck a nerve within him, and his emotions began to get the best of him as he leaned up against the side of the bathroom stall while continuing to point his gun at the Commander with his right paw.

Quietly and with a trace of emotion that Fox could vaguely detect, the Commander murmured, "You're not the only one, Fox. You see, he was my father, too."

The Commander's unexpected reply sent Fox into a confused burst of anger. "Don't lie to me! My father would never have anything to do with you, you coward!"

"You don't know that, Fox," the Commander replied. "Would he really put up with the injustice and the greed that is tearing this Federation apart? I think not."

Fox was not amused. Furiously, he retorted, "So, you're suggesting that he would lead an all-out attack on his own people to fix the problem?"

"We'll never know," the Commander answered, "All I can say is that he would never stand for what your 'friend' Graves is doing."

Fox recalled his prior conversation with Peppy when he asked his old friend if he was crazy for thinking badly of General Graves. He remembered what the old hare had said; and now that his enemy was echoing the same sentiments, Fox wondered if there was more to the stern general than he thought at first.

Slowly, he lowered his blaster and gazed into his half-brother's powerful green eyes. In that moment, he was torn between two options which each had the potential to powerfully impact the future of Lylat. He could either shoot the enemy responsible for annihilating all life on Katina and sending thousands of Lylatians to the grave in the short-lived war with Corneria; or he could show him mercy and spare his life. The Commander had not even discussed ONYX yet, but Fox was already beginning to see his side.

"Get up," Fox ordered. The Commander rose to his feet and assumed a perfect posture in the small bathroom stall without so much as flinching. "I'm going to let you go," Fox continued, almost shocked at what he was telling his enemy. "Don't try anything ever again."

The dark vulpine simply nodded before offering a handshake to Fox. Star Fox's leader solemnly accepted the gesture as he continued to look over his half-brother's figure. His build and his facial features were very similar to those of the McCloud family, and the only thing that set him apart was the dark fur he had inherited from his mother. Fox still had a great deal of difficulty in believing that the Supreme Commander of Ichtos was, indeed, his brother; but the similarity between the two of them was uncanny, even though the older of the two was clad in rough country clothing.

The two vulpines exited the restroom together as Fox slung his blaster over his shoulder once again. The Commander returned to his position in the fruit stand next to his employer Silvia before soberly nodding to Fox and thanking him for sparing him. Fox nodded in reply and then turned to Falco, who was holding the bag of oranges that Fox had purchased.

"What the heck was that all about, Fox?" he asked.

Insincerely, Fox replied, "It's nothing, Falco. Let's go."

Fox and Falco soon left the small town square and located a nearby taxi, which they entered before ordering the driver to take them to Corneria City. The drive would take a significant amount of time, and at first, the driver refused to make the journey. However, he was convinced to take the job when Fox presented him with 200 credits for safely transporting them to Corneria City.

"Alright, pal. I'll take you guys to the city," said the driver with a dry laugh. He was strapped for business at the time, and Fox's hefty offer was exactly what he needed to keep his company in operation. Within minutes, the yellow car left Admen and began the trip to the large Cornerian capital.

As Fox and Falco left the city, the former Supreme Commander watched the cab slowly disappear down the road leading to the distant metropolis. "Thanks, Fox. I owe you one," he said to himself, just loudly enough for Silvia to hear.

"He let you go?" the vixen incredulously asked.

"Yeah… but I didn't deserve it," the Commander replied. "I've got to find some way to repay him."

* * *

At promptly 2:15 P.M., Corneria City Standard Time, a heavy, black, armored truck entered the Cornerian Military Complex and pulled into a large parking spot next to the SUV that General Graves used for transportation purposes. The large vehicle's doors slowly swung open, and the hulking figure of Xiao Ling stepped out from the passenger's side, accompanied by three heavily armed ONYX units. The first of the three was Alpha 1—the falcon Graves had met inside the D.o.I. bunker near Admen. The second was Lambda 4—otherwise known as Bruno Hartmann; and the third was a vulpine trooper from ONYX's Omicron unit with the number 0 printed next to the 'O' symbol on his shoulder plates. In casual conversation, he went by the name 'Cipher.'

ONYX armor did not cover the wearer's brush or tail feathers; but for reasons unknown to anyone other than Ling, Omicron Zero always wore a cloth-like tail covering that obscured the natural color of his thick brush. No one apart from Ling or Alpha 1 had ever seen him remove his helmet; and it was rumored that he wore a mask underneath it to prevent anyone from ever being able to see his uncovered face. He spoke very little, and he moved with the utmost confidence and authority.

The enigma behind Cipher was furthered by the fact that the Omicron unit did not even exist to begin with. The only current ONYX units still in service were Lambda, Alpha, Theta, Phi, and Delta. Upsilon, the unit that had murdered the Supreme Commander's adopted father, had been disbanded after its members were killed in action. Regardless of the mystery behind Cipher, no one dared to ask any questions about him.

The three armored ONYX units escorted Ling into the military complex and through its many halls until they arrived at the door leading into General Graves's office. Bruno formally opened the door for his three comrades and allowed them to enter the room, where a meeting had been set up with the General. Bruno's armored black helmet masked his thoughts and feelings, preventing Ling, Cipher, or Alpha 1 from noticing them. However, the truth was that he felt completely overshadowed by the two other ONYX troopers in his company.

The husky entered the room after the other three and sat down next to Cipher in front of Graves's desk. Without further ado, Ling broke the silence and said, "Good afternoon to you, General Graves."

"Good afternoon, Supervisor Ling," he courteously replied, although the tone of his voice indicated that he was deeply concerned about the panda's visit. "I believe there was something you wanted to tell me."

"Yes, General," said Ling, lightly scraping the underside of his muzzle. "With everything that's been taking place recently; we need the ONYX unit to be ready for action as soon as possible. It's paramount that we make sure that they're prepared and properly trained to handle anything that we might face in the future. Unfortunately, my contacts are telling me that the training is only 65% complete. Is that correct, General Graves?"

"Unfortunately, it is," the eagle groused. "We're doing everything we can to make sure they're ready for action, and I don't think we can speed it up without taking drastic measures. MCPO Leonhart is doing the best he can to train them. I wouldn't have anyone else doing it, and I mean that when I say it."

"…Unfortunately…" Ling quickly countered, "…Everything we can do is simply not good enough. I'm afraid that we are left with no choice but to use measures that some would consider extreme." He paused to scratch an itch behind his ear and continued, "That is why I am suggesting that you relieve Leonhart from his post and sever all ties with the ONYX organization. You will be allowed to exchange information with the new ONYX officer, but your name won't appear on any documents related to the unit's training. Believe me—this is for your good."

Somewhat irritated, Graves asked the panda, "Who are you going to put in Leonhart's place?"

Xiao Ling simply raised his wrist-mounted interface to his lips and quietly spoke into it, "Carmine, you're wanted in the General's office."

In five seconds, the door to Graves's office slowly creaked open; and a tall, sand-colored vulpine stepped into the room. He wore the black uniform belonging to the Cornerian Department of Intelligence, and his face and physique were strikingly handsome except for a hideous scar that crossed his right eye, which was covered with a black eye patch. Curiously, three flowing tails jutted out from his backside, as well. There were no more seats available in the General's office, so he walked up to Graves in front of his desk and extended his paw for Graves to shake. "Carmine Ahuira, Tier 5 Team Specialist," he said in a strong, mature voice that caused even General Graves to feel submissive to him.

After exchanging a handshake, Carmine stepped off to the side to allow Ling and Graves to continue their conversation. "This man," said Ling, "…Is the finest soldier I've ever had the pleasure of working with. I know for certain that under his guidance, ONYX will be ready for combat in less than a month's time. I personally guarantee it, and so does he." Carmine nodded in agreement with his hands locked together behind his back. Emphatically, Ling continued, "I strongly urge you to do this, General. We are in a dangerous situation right now; and we need ONYX to be ready."

General Graves uncomfortably fidgeted in his chair as he looked across his desk at Hartmann, Cipher, Ling, Alpha 1, and finally, the strange vulpine whom Ling had introduced to him. "I don't like this, Ling," said Graves, "But it appears that I have no choice. I will remove MCPO Leonhart from his position. You take care of the rest—but make sure that I can stay in close contact with Carmine at all times."

"Agreed, sir," Ling replied. "I will see to it immediately."

* * *

After a long day of selling oranges in the town square of Admen with his friend and employer Silvia, the former Supreme Commander of Ichtos was feeling ready to relax. Not in the mood for conversation, Silvia quietly drove her old, blue pickup truck back to the orange farm where she lived and worked alongside her newfound friend. While her passenger gazed out the roll-down window on his side of the vehicle, Silvia took a quick look at him as she began to near her family's homestead.

While completing the final leg of her trip back from the town square, she thought about her first meeting with him and how she had completely misunderstood his motives at first. The Commander had the good of Corneria's citizens in mind from the very beginning, even though he had wiped out all life on Fichina in the process of initiating his war effort on the Cornerian Federation. His sole intent was to bring the world he was born on back to its former glory, regardless of what anyone else thought about his actions. Silvia was on the fence about where she stood with his convictions and beliefs, so to speak; but she was willing to accept them as part of him.

Eventually, the white farmhouse where she and the former Supreme Commander lived came into view along with the acres upon acres of lush orange trees flourishing in the mid-spring weather of Corneria. After pulling into the gravel driveway and climbing out of the truck, she and the Commander entered her house and sat down on a brown, leather sofa in the living room to watch a primetime movie presentation about a lonely Cerinian girl who fell in love with an offworlder whom she found lying on the ground after a catastrophic engine failure caused his ship to malfunction and crash on the planet.

The movie had been filmed on Sauria, since the dinosaur-populated planet was the best possible substitute for Cerinia. After Krystal's entrance into the Lylat System, the people of its many planets quickly developed a keen interest in the doomed planet which the blue vixen hailed from; and it had even become popular in certain circles for vulpines to dye their fur blue in imitation of the Cerinians. The mystique and the wonder of what it would have been like to live on the mysterious planet was a never-ending source of intrigue for the people of Lylat.

Both Silvia and the Commander tiredly fixed their eyes on the large, flatscreen television as Stephen slowly placed his arm around Silvia's shoulder. She didn't seem to mind his mildly romantic action—in fact, she rather enjoyed it. The vixen sighed and leaned back into her friend's chest as the movie switched to a commercial break that took up five minutes of their time while they relaxed on the couch.

Silvia was thoroughly enjoying the romantically-tinged flick, but the Commander would have rather been watching something with an emphasis on action and drama. He had formerly had a penchant for horror movies; but after the enormous enemy warship had rendered his armada helpless over Fortuna, he had lost all desire for that form of entertainment. Movies that were intended to be shocking or terrifying never bothered him because they weren't 'real.' However, what had taken place over the forest planet less than a week ago had undeniably occurred. The mere thought of the black and blue battleship appearing out of nowhere with that horrifying shredding noise was enough to cause him to tremble in fear. Worse yet, he knew that it was still out there somewhere.

The vixen felt his fearful palpitations and looked up into his eyes, asking him, "What's wrong, Stephen?"

"Oh, it's nothing," he replied, softly stroking Silvia's soft, black hair. He was aware that the vixen knew nothing about what had really taken place over Fortuna; and he preferred that it stayed that way. She didn't need to share his fear and worry about something over which they had no control.

After the commercial break, the movie entered the final portion of the broadcast, which ended with the Cerinian's lover leaving the planet, promising that he would return to her in due time. The film mentioned nothing about the destruction of Cerinia, but the movie's producers were aware that the film's patrons would all know that the planet was wiped out before the Cerinian's lover could come back for her.

The assumed ending brought an even greater amount of sadness to the conclusion of the movie as Silvia and Stephen watched the credits began to roll after the Cerinian's lover left the planet and vanished into the night skies of Cerinia. The former Supreme Commander felt a sharp pain in his chest when he realized that if he replaced the silver transport ship in the movie with the _Phoenix,_ it would have been no different than when he had left Ichtos for the last time.

Suddenly, the former Commander understood how General Volkchelovek must have felt when he abandoned her and all of his comrades on the planet he had called home for more than five years. While he bitterly reminisced about his not-too-distant past, Silvia quietly shed several tears at the end of the movie. To her surprise, though, the vulpine holding her was crying his eyes out.

"What have I done?" he quietly sobbed as tears streamed down his face. "I had everything—and I threw it all away just to be hated and hunted down by the very people I was trying to help."

Silvia sat up and tenderly stroked his muzzle, trying to comfort the forlorn vulpine whose regret had been stirred up by the sad romance movie. "I understand," she said. "Please, don't cry—you've got me, and I'm not going to hurt you. I love you, Stephen." The red vixen placed a quick, soft kiss on his lips and then rested her head on his chest as he continued to weep.

He wanted to return the favor and tell Silvia that he loved her as well, but he felt unable to wrench his feelings for her out of his chest while he was brooding on his past. Quietly, he asked, "Can we sit outside?"

"Of course, Stephen," the vixen affectionately replied.

The former Commander slowly trudged out to the homestead's front porch while Silvia rested her arm on his shoulder in a vain attempt to bring him at least a brief shadow of solace. He slowly took a seat on the cloth seat of the white, wicker-based couch that faced towards the distant metropolis of Corneria City. From fifty miles away, only the faintest glow of the city lights could be seen. Three miles to his right was the Cornerian East Ocean, and to his left was a large stretch of farmland.

Silvia wrapped her arm around Stephen's neck, and he did the same as they both gazed into the distant horizon towards Corneria City. "Don't get discouraged, Stephen," the vixen whispered into his ear. "Just give it time. They'll forgive you eventually."

"You wish," he derisively replied. Silvia frowned and leaned back in the wicker couch as a low-pitched rumbling sound came to her ears. "What's that noise, Stephen?" she asked, mystified by the strange sound that seemed to be coming from the direction of the ocean.

The former Commander had heard the sound many times in his life. It was the unmistakable explosive tremor created by several large, high-powered plasma engines. Intrigued by the unexpected noise, he rose to his feet and descended the short set of stairs to the homestead's yard, where he could clearly see the source of the commotion without the house obstructing his field of vision. In the following seconds, he felt ice beginning to flow through his veins as a cold sweat broke out all over his body. Just barely visible in the distance was the unmistakable shape of the black warship that had appeared over Fortuna.

In mere seconds, the nearby town's air raid siren loudly blared, alerting the town's residents to the potential threat. While Stephen clutched at his head and screamed "NO!" at the top of his lungs, Silvia raced back inside her house and switched on the television, which was broadcasting a universal emergency message across every channel.

"_ATTENTION: This is an emergency news broadcast. The blockade around the planet has been breached by an unknown attacker. We strongly urge all residents of Corneria City to immediately head to the nearest bomb shelter or secured basement for safety reasons."_

The vixen began to tremble in fear at what she was witnessing. The situation was only made worse when Stephen barged through the door leading in from the porch and loudly demanded, "I need a subspace-ready phone right now!"

"I…I don't have one!" the vixen cried.

"DAMN IT! The former Supreme Commander yelled, forcefully punching a nearby wall in rage and creating a gaping hole in the drywall. "I need to get to the town square ASAP, then!"

Still shaking in fear, the vixen snatched the keys for her pickup off a key ring in the kitchen and flung the front door open for Stephen, who frantically followed her outside and slammed the door shut behind him as he exited the homestead. He and Silvia leapt into her truck as she started the engine and slammed the shifter into reverse, flinging a healthy dose of gravel into the air as she rapidly backed the pickup down the driveway and onto the nearby rural road that bordered the vixen's orange farm.

The seven mile drive to the town square would not take long at the speeds at which Silvia was driving. The scenery flashed by them as the vixen's old pickup truck reached 85 miles per hour, heading towards Admen at nearly twice the legal speed limit. The dark, country roads were almost completely free of traffic, allowing Silvia to focus completely on maintaining control of the old vehicle, which was not intended to be driven this quickly. The entire way to the town square, the former Commander kept his fearful eyes locked onto the hulking black warship that was slowly bearing down on Corneria City.

No ships from the Cornerian orbital blockade had shown up to take it down, leaving Stephen to believe that the battleship had used an EMP on them, just like it had over Fortuna. As Silvia maneuvered her truck into the town limits, she was forced to slow down to avoid slow-moving city traffic and the police forces which had been called away from their homes and families to assist in emergency-preparedness measures for the town's residents.

"Get me close to those fighters over there," the Commander firmly ordered.

To Stephen's relief, no police officers or militia members were anywhere near Fox's IA-42, which he intended to take. He knew that the communications unit in the advanced fighter would be powerful enough for him to be able to reach Voltimure Reige on Iridium. The lupine scientist was the only person he knew who could possibly know how to stop the warship from wreaking havoc on the city he was born and raised in.

Silvia parked her truck in an empty parking spot behind a coffee shop as Stephen flung open the right side door and leaped out. The vixen also climbed out of the truck, stopping Stephen from moving towards the fighter as she firmly placed both paws on his shoulders. "Please, be careful, Stephen," she begged, looking directly into his powerful, green eyes. "I don't want to lose you."

"Don't worry about me, Silvia," he replied. "If I don't come back tonight, you and I can rest in peace knowing that I will have died a hero." He raised his paw to feather her soft hair and then planted a quick kiss on her delicate lips before stepping out of the parking lot and sprinting over to the abandoned IA-42 parked nearby.

* * *

The Archetype's procedure had taken its toll on Krystal's body, and after falling asleep on the beach near the spire of High Iridium, she was rendered completely unconscious for more than eight hours. She slowly awoke to the sensation of the gentle ocean waves rolling in on her and lightly caressing her bare fur. She simply remained in her relaxed position, letting the water soak her from head to toe without making any attempt to resist it. Simple pleasures such as this were surprisingly rare in her civilized life in the Lylat System.

After one large wave crashed in and completely covered her, she sat up, but still did not move. She felt the soupy beach sand beginning to pull her down into its firm grasp, but she knew that there was no danger or harm in it, at least for the moment. She remembered that she used to do this very thing back on Cerinia, when she would go out to a remote area of the beach late at night when no one was around just to bathe in the clear sea near her home.

Since then, things had changed more the she would have thought possible. Looking back on her life's journey, she shook her head in amazement regarding the amazing experiences she had been part of; first with her tribe on Cerinia, and then with Fox and his team. As she sat on the beach, washing herself in the crisp ocean waves, she could almost see the second stage of her life slowly fading away and being replaced with her new duty as the Last of the Threefold Iridian people. She didn't know if it would be the closing act of her young life; but at the moment, she didn't care.

Eventually, the sand pulled her down to a point that was no longer comfortable for her; and after struggling to free herself, she stood up and allowed one more wave to crash into her before walking out of the breakers back onto the dry portion of the beach. She was just about to seat herself on the soft sand to allow her fur to dry out before she put her mantle back on, when she glanced to her right and saw the glowing eyes of the Archetype staring at her through the pitch darkness of the moonless Iridian night.

Krystal covered her breasts in embarrassment as the spectral figure slowly shuffled through the sands towards where she was standing. "Don't be ashamed of yourself," he assured her, "You haven't done anything wrong." The Cerinian relaxed her posture and sat down on the beach as the silver vulpine seated himself next to her and looked into her eyes with a keen glare that formerly would have put her on edge. Now, however, she felt no fear from looking at him.

Calmly, but with a slight tinge of emotion, the Archetype spoke, "You are ready, my daughter. The time is almost here. Clothe yourself and take the _Khaimaira_ back to where you first landed on the planet. I will be waiting for you there. Do not worry about where to go. I have already programmed the ship's computer to take you there." The Archetype stood up, shook the sand off of his silver robe, and gazed into the starry expanse above the planet.

"_Nightfall is upon us."_

Suddenly, the silver vulpine disappeared from sight with a muffled, explosive sound, much to Krystal's shock. Quickly, she stood up and looked around for him; although she immediately realized that he was long gone already. Wasting no time, the vixen hurriedly stepped into her mantle and pulled the stretchy garment up until it snugly fit around her limbs.

Following that, she sprinted back towards the High Iridium spire and descended into the catacombs underneath the building, skillfully navigating the dimly-lit passageways until she reached the sealed hangar doors that prevented her from reaching the _Khaimaira. _While she faced the blank, steel door, her eyes darted to the touch pad that the Archetype had used to open the doors knew that the sensor would only respond to a High Iridian's touch, and she wondered if she would now be able to open it herself.

With some resignation, the Cerinian stepped up to the touch pad and placed her palm onto it. A red line darted back and forth across the display, scanning her blue paw before the display emitted a quiet chirp and slid open the hangar doors for her. Inside the hangar, the hulking warship stood before her, its enormous wings creating near-phantasmal shadows that danced across the floor in the blood red hangar area. The hieroglyphic print on the side of the battleship's fuselage seemed to glow in the dim, red light of the cavernous space; and as Krystal stepped closer to the ship's extended entry ramp, she began to realize how truly imposing the _Khaimaira _actually was.

The vixen slowly ascended the long ramp which led into the heart of the ship, which was barely illuminated by blood-colored conduit lines similar to the ones that were displayed on the walls in the Iridian catacombs. The ship was completely empty, but for some reason, it felt vaguely alive to Krystal—much like the _Great Fox _had. Admiring the Iridian warship's interior, the Cerinian navigated her way to the bridge, where one seat took precedence over all the other chairs inside the _Khaimaira_'s command area. The central seat was shaped like a fighter pilot's chair and was isolated from the other nearby seats by two metallic panels which jutted out from the ship's large dashboard.

Upon closer examination, she noticed a flight stick jutting out of the dash in front of the pilot's seat, which also featured a four-point safety harness. Why a battleship would ever need that was a complete mystery to her. Curious about the ship, the vixen slowly eased herself down into the comfortable pilot's seat and manually adjusted it to suit her height. A faintly pulsating red button caught her attention as she shifted around in the pilot's chair, trying to make herself as comfortable as possible.

The button only had one glyphic character printed on it, but Krystal knew that it was the ignition button. "_Here we go,"_ she muttered to herself, reaching forward and pressing the button. A display to her left quickly lit up and presented her with two options, both written in the High Iridium dialect of the Glyphic Code. The language had formerly been too complicated for her Cerinian mind to comprehend; but thanks to the Archetype's rite of passage, she could now clearly understand it.

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, Krystal selected the option that translated to "Initiate launch sequence." A quiet musical sound emanated from the dashboard before the roof above the hangar slowly began to open. At the same time, the floor angled backwards until the _Khaimaira _was pointed upwards at a 15 degree angle. A countdown from five began as several of the warship's other controls and gauges began to come to life before Krystal's eyes. The vixen took a quick gulp of air as the countdown shifted from '1' to 'launch'.

For less than half of a second, everything in the hangar and the ship became eerily quiet. Then, a massive, concussive roar filled the Cerinian's ears, almost deafening her with its extreme noise. The battleship vibrated violently and slowly began to leave the hangar as the thrust from its six nuclear fusion-based engines powered it into the dark, night skies of Iridium.

As the noise began to dissipate, Krystal breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed her body, which was shaking feverishly. She still could feel the effects of her adrenaline on her system as she undid her safety harness and climbed out of the pilot's seat. Per the Archetype's programming, the battleship began to trace the course back to where the vixen had first arrived on the planet. Meanwhile, Krystal flopped down into a comfortable red chair and relaxed her tense limbs, allowing all of her pent-up stress to escape.

The Archetype hadn't explicitly told her this, but she had the feeling that it would not be long before she would leave Iridium. Her short stay had been filled with wonder, mystery, and awe at the sights and visions she had experienced while on the planet. The expanse of clear, unspoiled ocean raced past as the _Khaimaira _sped towards its destination with pinpoint precision.

The entire flight back to the Iridian city, she pondered the last words that the Archetype had spoken to her before he disappeared. "_Nightfall is upon us_." What was Nightfall? What was the meaning of it, and what was her role in preventing it from being accomplished? The Cerinian mused on the possible implications of what the Archetype had told her as the _Khaimaira _continued on its course back to where she had first landed on Iridium.

The illuminated city soon appeared on the horizon. The glowing lights being broadcasted from its many structures gave the illusion that it was a densely populated metropolis, even though its only sentient resident was Voltimure Reige. The ocean below the _Khaimaira_ eventually turned to sand, which was in turn replaced by the sprawling urban complex of the Iridian city.

The battleship continued to fly under its pre-programmed guidance until it suddenly came to a stop and hovered directly over the platform where her Seraph fighter was parked. A shrill noise filled the cockpit as the ship's vehicle transmission system began to activate automatically, beaming the Cornerian fighter into the immense warship's cavernous hangar. Krystal abandoned the _Khaimaira's _bridge and sprinted to the hangar area, where she found her fighter neatly positioned on the silver and red floor. As she had done many times before, she scaled the ship's wings and climbed into the open canopy before firing the engines and leaving the hangar after ascertaining that all of the ship's systems were functioning properly.

The vixen flew her advanced fighter down to the same landing pad where she had first landed, just as the Archetype had instructed her. As she climbed out of the fighter, she was greeted by the spectral vulpine, who was holding the completed set of armor that she had been fitted for earlier. The vulpine carefully set the various plates onto the platform at his feet and motioned for Krystal to come closer to him so he could help her fasten the armor to her mantle.

The armor plating—which was colored to match her natural cerulean fur—quickly snapped onto her mantle's two metallic clip rails with minimal effort; and before long, the Cerinian was completely covered by the advanced plating that was surprisingly light, despite its thickness. The armor had been custom-tailored to follow her natural curves to make movement as seamless as possible, and its sleek, elegant design was the polar opposite of the bold, jagged-edged design of Corneria's ONYX armor.

After kneeling to fasten Krystal's armored boots, the Archetype rose to his feet and explained, "The armor that you are wearing is the culmination of more than two hundred years of research and development. Even though it is very light, it has exceptional defense properties against all forms of small arms fire. It was designed to stay out your way so that you would be able to focus completely on the task at hand. Use it to your advantage, my daughter." The silver fox then handed Krystal the final piece of her suit—the helmet. The blue-colored piece had been designed to perfectly follow each of her face's unique curves to provide a snug, comfortable fit; and she smiled as she slipped it on and disappeared behind the thick, black visor that hid her glowing eyes from the Archetype.

With a tinge of emotion, the silver vulpine solemnly spoke, "Farewell, Krystal; Daughter of Cerinia. Do not return here until all has come to an end."

"How will I know when that is?" she asked with her helmet's voice processor amplifying her natural voice as she spoke.

"You will know. There will be no doubt about it," he replied, turning around and walking away from her.

As Krystal watched the Archetype slowly walk down the landing platform towards the nearest door, her heart felt heavy. Goodbye was never easy for her, and this was no exception. She had become accustomed to the silver fox's calming, powerful presence; but now, she knew that she was on her own. The Archetype would never abandon her without first preparing her for whatever she would have to face; but still, she felt unready for what lay ahead of her. As the Archetype stepped into the doorway, he turned around and silently nodded to Krystal before walking into the tower and disappearing from her view.

Mere seconds later, the tall figure of Voltimure Reige burst through the same door, with Violet and Rose hot on his heels as he frantically sprinted towards Krystal.

"Krystal! We have to... WHOA! What is that?" he yelled after laying eyes on the immense battleship that was hovering above him.

Calmly, Krystal replied, "It's called the _Khaimaira. _The Archetype gave it to me."

"The Archetype?" he shouted over the noise of the _Khaimaira's_ idling engines, which were still very loud. "You mean that he actually exists?"

"Yes, Voltimure. I was with him since yesterday."

The large lupine scientist seemed disturbed by Krystal's revelation. For years, he had seen the name 'Archetype K.R.' repeatedly appearing on his computers throughout the Iridian metropolitan complex, all without having the slightest clue about who he even was.

"Listen, Krystal," Voltimure frantically explained, "You couldn't have come back at a better time. You see, I just received an emergency call from the Supreme Commander of Ichtos. He needs our help immediately."

"What? Why should I help _him_?" she replied with disgust evident in her voice.

Voltimure stepped closer to the armored vixen and answered, "Krystal... it's _her."_

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):_

_Well, it's almost here - the moment you've all been waiting for. What will happen next? Find out next week when Chapter 23 is posted!  
_

_Also, if anyone thinks that the 'K.R.' in 'Archetype K.R.' stands for K.S. Reynard, they'd be wrong. I just wanted to clear that up in case anyone thought it was a self-insert. The K.R. actually does function as shorthand for his name, but his name itself isn't important enough to be mentioned._


	23. Chapter 23: Nightfall

**Chapter 23: Nightfall**

Date and Time: April 23, 10 ALW, 12:00 A.M.

The scene on the ground in Corneria City was one of sheer chaos and disorder. Throngs of civilians were practically being thrown into the metropolis's underground bomb shelters by the Cornerian Militia, while husbands and wives frantically dialed their spouses and children to warn them of the impending danger. The enormous black and blue warship could clearly be seen in the skies above the Cornerian East Ocean, steadily approaching the capital of the Lylat System, intent on its sole purpose.

In the midst of the chaos, Fox and Falco forced their way through the frantic crowds out of the bar where they had been knocking back a few drinks without the slightest knowledge of what was about to take place on their watch. Spotting a Cornerian military SUV, Falco sprinted up to it and yelled at the canine militia trooper standing guard next to it, "Hey you! We're with Star Fox! We need to get to the military base ASAP!"

The solider quickly recognized the pilot who had just confronted him and nervously shouted, "Hurry up and get in!" Fox leapt into the front passenger seat, while Falco was forced to content himself with the back as the canine militia member started the SUV and gunned the throttle. The military base was less than five miles from their current location, but the traffic on the streets was nothing short of a nightmare. The military had managed to clear a barely-usable path for emergency vehicles, but civilians were frantically racing across the darkened city streets, trying to make it to the underground bomb shelters before they became too crowded.

The canine trooper repeatedly sounded the vehicle's horn to little effect in an attempt to persuade the panicky citizens of Corneria City to clear off the roads. At the current rate of speed at which they were traveling, they would not be able to reach the base in time. Fox began to panic as he furiously watched the fearful civilians refusing to leave the roads and allow them to proceed to their destination. "Out of the way!" the vulpine screamed, all to no avail. His cry was hopelessly lost in the sea of terrified voices in the city.

From the back seat, Falco disdainfully yelled, "I've had enough of this s**t already!" In a last-ditch effort, the avian rolled down the SUV's back window, armed his blaster, and repeatedly fired into the air. Surprisingly, the inadvisable move caused the citizens to clear out of the vehicle's immediate path as the driver floored the throttle and maneuvered the large SUV through the chaotic city streets. Falco continued to open fire while Fox nervously observed as the canine soldier driving the vehicle loudly shouted "Aw, f—k!" and barely avoided colliding with a lamppost. The militia trooper was sweating profusely, and it was apparent he was using every last bit of his limited driving skill to deliver Fox and Falco to their destination.

A short distance ahead of the speeding military vehicle, a fear-stricken raccoon opened the driver's side door on his car and prepared to jump out and make a run for the nearest shelter; but before he could step out of his car, the door panel was ripped completely off the vehicle by the military SUV that refused to stop for anyone. At this rate, Fox was concerned that the driver would run over and kill a civilian, but he refused to comment on it for fear that he would be unable to reach the military base in time to possibly stage a defense against the enormous battleship that continued to loom larger in the skies over the city.

"Less than two miles!" the driver shouted, barely dodging a screaming vixen that had stepped out into the road before the SUV had rounded the previous corner. Turning around in his seat to address Falco, who was still firing into the air from his window, Fox yelled, "Falco! Where's Slippy?"

"He's in the military base's detention area!" the avian hollered back in reply before his eyes jumped upwards to the figure of the battleship that continued to creep closer to the city. "This isn't looking good, Foxie! I don't know how we're going to deal with that thing!"

Fox made no response as he gritted his teeth in frustration. Unbelievably, nothing had even attempted to bring down the advancing vessel so far. Fighters would be almost a joke against the heavy shielding which the battleship almost certainly possessed, although using small spacecraft appeared to be their only option at the moment. With every second that passed, Fox could feel his fear beginning to overwhelm him. "_Is this the end?" _he asked himself.

"One mile and closing! We're almost there!"

With a sudden 'crack', the city's perimeter defense railguns activated, launching their powerful, armor-penetrating ordnances into the side of the immense battleship that had almost entered Corneria City's airspace. The supersonic rounds seemed to marginally damage the warship, but not nearly enough to bring it down.

* * *

_…Meanwhile, inside the military complex…_

"General Graves to _Phaidon _bridge—please confirm Guila base launch." The elderly avian general anxiously waited for a response from the captain of ONYX's oldest surviving battlecruiser, which had been stationed on Corneria's nearest moon with the rest of ONYX's soldiers-in-training. Around him in one of the base's subterranean control rooms were Peppy, Captain Bruno Hartmann, the husky's two comrades, and Beltino Toad. In seconds, the masculine voice of the _Phaidon's_ pilot resounded through the room, courtesy of the underground chamber's powerful intercom system.

"Roger that, General Graves. We can confirm liftoff. We're on our way now. Our ETA is five minutes."

In mere seconds, the doors to the room burst open, and the vulpine Prime Minister practically leapt into the room. "What the hell is going on out there? What is that thing?"

"Calm down, Prime Minister!" the eagle shouted in a way that managed to be even more imposing than his normal voice. "According to all reports, it's the ship that EMP'd our fleet over Fortuna." He turned to Beltino with a strict, severe expression that showed the deep concern for the situation and asked, "Doctor, is the _Phoenix _ready for takeoff?"

"95% ready, General," the amphibian replied, nervously fidgeting with his hands.

"That's going to have to be enough, then," Graves growled, picking up his mobile communicator and entering the extension for the division of Space Dynamics where the former Ichtosian flagship had been sent for repairs. Shortly, the General was put in contact with Anderson, the raccoon Star Fox and Peppy had met some time ago when they were selecting new fighters for themselves.

"General Graves? What is it sir?" he worriedly asked.

The eagle's stern countenance took on a fearsome property as he replied, "Get a pilot for the _Phoenix_ and launch it _now._ I don't care if it's not ready yet—just get it up there.

"Y…yes sir! I'll have it up in less than five minutes!" The line quickly closed, but not before the raccoon's feverish voice could be heard in the background, yelling, "Get it up now! Hurry!"

"Gentlemen, this is it," Graves muttered. "We can't let them do what they did to our men on Fortuna."

Unaware of what the black enemy battleship was capable of, Peppy inquired, "Sir, what happened to our men on Fortuna?"

Without a trace of emotion, the eagle shot back, "You don't even want to know."

* * *

The concrete surface of the Cornerian military base was flooded with military personnel of all varieties, all intent on the same purpose—to launch as many fighters and light frigates into the skies over Corneria in a desperate attempt at bringing down the approaching black vessel. The city's automated defenses continued to mercilessly pound the invading battleship, but it seemed that nothing could slow its inevitable progress towards the city. From Fox's shotgun seat in the Cornerian military SUV that he and Falco were riding in, he could clearly see the neon blue outlines of the warship, along with the accompanying hieroglyphic print that riddled the side of its hull.

The warship was every bit as haunting as it had been over Adalmure, where he had seen it for the first time. Its mere appearance had sent shivers down his spine, but there had been no way for him to know just what it was truly capable of. Now, though, it seemed that nothing would be able to stop it. The city's railguns repeatedly unloaded their powerful ordnances into the ship's thick, black armor plating as millions of Cornerians in the city below continued to panic and scream, creating numerous deadly, panicked riots throughout the metropolis.

Five squadrons of Cornerian M2 fighters lifted off in front of Fox and Falco's eyes, gunning their engines and making a course directly for the immense battleship that was now slowly advancing on the city over the white sands of Corneria Beach. The warship continued to shake off the ineffectual laser and plasma rounds as it continued its slow, ominous advance on the city's center. As the two pilots from Star Fox gazed at the quickly-escalating aerial battle, they watched as the black and blue monolith began launching scores of similarly-colored fighter-like crafts out of its side hangars. The similarity between the fighters and space-faring Aparoids was unmistakable, causing both Fox and Falco to believe that they were UAVs of some sort.

The swarms of drone fighters began to draw the Cornerian ships' fire away from the battleship as three black fighters belonging to ONYX took off from their respective hangars and screamed over the Cornerian military complex before raising altitude to engage the multitude of drones surrounding the enemy battleship. Even over the incredible din created by the hundreds of shouts and yells, the base's loudspeakers were clearly audible. "All pilots! Get into your fighters ASAP! Repeat—get to your fighters ASAP!"

Fox's seat belt dug into his neck and nearly choked him as his SUV's driver slammed on the heavy vehicle's brakes in the middle of the military complex's concrete pad, almost flattening a white wolf pilot who stared daggers at him and began to raise his middle finger before his and everyone else's attention was diverted towards the underside of the looming battleship as it began to emit a strange whirring sound.

Falco's countenance took on an expression Fox had never seen from him before. "_Oh no…_ _Not this again,_" he whispered, although Fox could partially make out what he was saying. Refusing to wait any longer for a chance to spring into action, Fox shoved open the SUV's passenger side door and leapt out onto the pavement, where he was joined by Falco. Both pilots were about to scout out the nearest hangar and convince two of the marines to allow them to borrow their fighters, when Slippy lumbered through the chaos on the expanse of concrete and stopped in front of Fox.

"This way, Fox! Peppy saved you guys some fighters!" He pointed to a break in the foot traffic, where three of the team's Arwings could be seen. Evidently, Falco's damaged craft was not one of them.

"How did you convince Graves to let you off the hook?" Falco shouted over the noise of the boisterous marines and militia troops surrounding them.

"He didn't—Peppy did."

Fox tersely smiled and took off running towards the three Arwings that the Lieutenant General had set aside for them. Slippy began to fall behind due to his lack of athleticism compared to Fox and Falco and was the last to reach the Arwings. Fox was the first to clamber up one of the Arwing's ailerons and leap into the opened cockpit, while Falco took the craft directly to his right. Fox had already closed his fighter's canopy as Slippy awkwardly hopped into the last of the three Arwings and struggled to situate himself inside the cramped cockpit.

Fox fired the Arwing's engines, causing the familiar sound of his old ship's powerplant to reverberate through his ears with its synthesized, mechanical whine. Initially, he wondered which one of his team's members the Arwing belonged to. The seat was set up exactly like his own, and the foot pedals and flight stick were within easy reach. However, it was not until he glanced over at the side of the Arwing's holographic display that he realized who this Arwing belonged to. A picture of him and Krystal was neatly taped to the edge of the console, just far enough out of the way to avoid interfering with any of the ship's controls. Time seemed to come to a standstill as he gazed at the small photograph, which had been taken on Sauria immediately after he and his team had repelled the Aparoid attack on the planet which Krystal was particularly fond of. In the picture, the vixen had a beautiful, relaxed smile on her face and was evidently at ease after Sauria had been delivered from the Aparoid threat.

A tear slid out of Fox's eye as he smiled at the picture which Krystal had placed in her cockpit as a reminder of her leader and closest friend. "_I love you, Krystal," _he whispered into the empty air of the Arwing's cockpit. The figures of the soldiers on the concrete pad of the military base seemed to crawl by in a blurry haze as Fox looked upwards and saw the gigantic black warship emitting a curtain of blue light from its underside, moving closer with every agonizing second.

Fearing that this would be the end, he solemnly began to form words as if it was the last time he would ever speak to Krystal before he died. It didn't matter to him that she couldn't hear him. He merely wanted to lift the heavy emotions from his chest.

"_I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to meet each other again, Krystal. I never thought it would come to this. If I die, don't feel sorry for me—I was just doing my job. I wish you the best, wherever you go. You'll always have a special place in my heart, whether I'm with you or not."_

He lowered his head and breathed a silent prayer for Krystal. Then, he returned his attention to the task at hand and ordered, "Falco, Slippy—prepare for takeoff. Focus on the drones and give the frigates a chance to get their shots in." Fox eased the Arwing's throttle lever forward, bringing the noise level up behind him as he slowly began to raise the craft vertically off the ground. Just then, a single black, Arwing-like fighter flashed overhead, launching a smart bomb at the source of the blue light that had begun to sweep the outer edges of the city. The light temporarily cut in and out as the powerful ordnance struck it and detonated, sending an orange shock wave into the air around the area of the blast.

The black battleship continued to bear down on the base while entire squadrons of Cornerian planetary fighters continued to lift off and attack the enormous craft in a futile attempt to bring it down. Now airborne, Fox quickly fell in behind a cluster of three drone fighters, downing them in rapid succession with the powerful front cannons of Krystal's Arwing. Falco and Slippy branched off and began to hunt down other targets, although they remained in close proximity to Fox in case he called for backup.

The Cornerian military communication lines were almost overloaded with screams, curses, and panicked orders from superior officers desperately attempting to retain onto some sense of order. Suddenly, the fighter pilots' attention was diverted towards the source of the powerful noise created by the _Phoenix_ as it began to lift off from the warehouse portion of the Space Dynamics military repair division and ascend into the sky. Its engines had all been repaired, but the armor on the starboard side was mismatched, with the original black paint contrasting with the unpainted silver sheet metal that had been welded in to replace the damaged armor on the rear portion of the craft.

The black dreadnaught wasted no time in circling around and beginning an attack run on the invading warship, firing its heavy front guns into the side of the behemoth. For the first time yet, the attack appeared to damage the hulking craft. The _Phoenix _turned away in preparation for another attack run, while hordes of drones began pelting its armored hull with their plasma-based fire. Seeing the drones beginning to attack the dreadnaught caused Fox a great deal of concern. If the drones were mere machines, they would lack the 'intelligence' to prioritize targets without prior programming. It also caused Fox to wonder if they were being controlled by someone or something. The UAVs were simply too intuitive for them to have been pre-programmed. Suddenly, he realized who it was that was at the helm of the enormous vessel and likely controlling the drones as well.

"_Adalmure,_" he thought to himself. The image of the black-clad vixen opening fire on him while he and Krystal struggled to see through the fog and the rain in the Adalmuran forest appeared in his mind; but he quickly shoved the thought away and focused on defending the commandeered Ichtosian flagship while it looped around and once again fired upon the black and blue battleship, penetrating its shielding and removing a heavy chunk of armor from its side.

"It's working!" Slippy gleefully announced, overjoyed that finally, something was able to inflict significant damage to the warship.

Falco, however, was not near as optimistic. "Guys, I've got a bad feeling about this."

Unfortunately, Fox had to admit that he agreed with the avian. "Me too, Falco. I think something bad is about to happen."

Their suspicions were confirmed when the blue curtain of light emanating from the underside of the monolith unexpectedly stopped transmitting. Simultaneously, the huge ship began to slowly rotate, using its auxiliary engines to maneuver itself into an attack position. The _Phoenix,_ approaching from over the ocean, began to initiate another attack on the warship, which by this point had rotated to face the oncoming dreadnaught. The blue laser blasts from the _Phoenix_'s front cannons powerfully struck the blocky front end of the monolithic vessel, but the front armor was heavily plated and repelled most of the blast energy along with the help of its powerful shielding.

"_Phoenix!_ Break! Break!" General Graves screamed over his communicator from deep within the military complex. He had been monitoring the status of the engagement from an LCD screen inside the bunker; and he was one of the first to realize what the enemy battleship was attempting to do.

"NO! NO!"

The pilots in the airspace around the monolith felt chills crawling down their backs as the neon blue lighting on the sides of the colossal battleship slowly faded out and crawled down the fuselage until it reached the base of the warship's oversized cannon, which began to glow.

"Oh s**t," Falco muttered.

"_PHOENIX_! BREAK!"

The pilot of the Ichtosian flagship yanked the control yoke to the right and feverishly attempted to maneuver out of the line of fire, but it was too late. The enemy ship shuddered, then unleashed a devastating purple beam of supercharged plasma that struck the _Phoenix_ directly in the front of the bridge, tearing through its shielding almost immediately. The beam penetrated through the heart of the dreadnaught, exiting out the aft portion of the craft and sending it into a slow, uncontrolled descent to the city below. The once-powerful battleship clipped a Cornerian skyscraper, causing the building to break in two and crash to the ground below as the ship plowed into a large city bank and came to a stop; but not before the building collapsed on top of it with a shower of concrete dust.

General Graves clenched his beak together and furiously balled up his fists. "Lieutenant!" he barked, "Get me the captain of the _Phaidon—_now!"

"Y…yes sir!" his subordinate feebly replied. "Here he is, sir!"

Snatching the wireless communicator from his lieutenant, the eagle roared, "_Phaidon_! Where the hell are you?! We just lost the _Phoenix_!"

"ETA is 2 minutes and 30 seconds, sir."

* * *

The mood in the air above Corneria City had reached a fever pitch. The unnaturally intuitive drone fighters were wreaking havoc with the Cornerian fighters; and it was all Fox, Falco, and Slippy could do to avoid being shot down.

"Slippy! You got one on your tail!" Falco snapped.

"I can't shake him! Fox! Help me!"

"GAH! Slippy! I can't! These guys are all over me!" Fox shouted over his communicator, frantically barrel rolling out of the way of enemy gunfire.

With Fox unable to do anything to help the hapless amphibian, Falco pulled hard to the left and attempted to fall in behind Slippy's pursuers to very little effect. Slippy was flying for his life and maneuvering as desperately as he possibly could, but his limited piloting skills were not enough to shake off the determined autonomous fighters that continued to pepper the hull of his Arwing with white-hot plasma bursts. Deeply worried, Slippy glanced down at his shield readout; and to his horror, he saw that they had fallen to 17%. He attempted to cut the power to his engines and perform an emergency braking maneuver using what was left of his g-diffusers, but the drones followed his movements and slowed to a crawl while continuing to eat away at his Arwing's shields. "Dang it! I can't get away!" he screamed, certain that he would be shot down.

A harsh, gritty voice reverberated through Slippy's cockpit speakers. "Don't move, pilot. I'll take care of it."

Despondently, Slippy obeyed the unknown pilot's order and flew in a straight line, trusting that whoever had contacted him would remain true to his word and take down his pursuers. His shields continued to drop, prompting a flashing red light to appear on his HUD. Concerned that his help was not on the way, Slippy spun his head around to look behind him and was able to catch a quick glimpse of a black Arwing tearing through the pursuing drones as if they were made of glass. The UAVs disintegrated in midair, ending the barrage that had threatened to take down his fighter.

"Thanks," he said, trying to catch his breath and regain his composure after nearly being shot down.

The pilot of the black Arwing gave no response. Momentarily, he pulled alongside Slippy's damaged craft, allowing the frog to catch a quick glimpse of him before he veered off and continued to engage the enemy swarms that were tearing the Cornerian fighter squadrons apart. The enigmatic pilot wore a sleek black helmet belonging to the ONYX unit, and the designation 'O-0' was painted on the side of his fighter, which differed slightly from a traditional Arwing upon closer examination.

"_Double zero? That's interesting…"_

* * *

In the bridge of the Iridium flagship _Khaimaira_ sat Krystal, Voltimure, Violet, and Rose, the mechanical Cerinian A.I. The ship, piloted by Krystal, had just exited the atmosphere of Iridium and entered the vast reaches of space in response to an emergency call from the Supreme Commander of Ichtos, who had frantically contacted Voltimure in response to seeing the black and blue warship bearing down upon Corneria City. Krystal was nonplussed about moving to assist her former enemy; but the more pressing issue at the moment was that the flight to Corneria would take more than eight hours, even at the speeds capable of being produced by even the most powerful warp drive in existence. There was simply no chance of them being able to reach Corneria before the massive enemy battleship had completely obliterated all opposition that stood in its way.

Knowing this, Krystal looked towards Voltimure and worriedly said, "Voltimure, there's no way we'll make it in time."

The large lupine made no reply. He was completely engrossed in the myriad buttons and control readouts on the _Khaimaira_'s expansive dash readout, and it appeared that he was looking for something in particular. "Do you know how old this ship is?" he asked the armored vixen, who curiously cocked her head in mild surprise.

"I don't know for sure," she replied, "But the Archetype _did _say that it was built a long time ago. How is that going to help anything, though?"

The scientist was quick to respond to her question. "Some of the old Iridian artifacts I've studied contain technology far more advanced than any mere mortal could ever comprehend. I have reason to believe that this ship may be equipped with a rending device."

"A _what_?"

"Let me explain," said Voltimure, his eyes never leaving the dash readout. "The shortest distance between two points is what? A line, right?" Krystal nodded, allowing Voltimure to continue. "Normally, it would be the shortest way to any given destination. However, what would happen if you were to shorten the line until only the beginning and end points were left?"

"You wouldn't have a line anymore," Krystal flatly replied.

Voltimure chuckled in response to Krystal's honest, rational answer to his seemingly simplistic question. Lowering his voice, he spoke, "Perhaps. But what if you kept the line, split it in half, and then shortened each half until you only had the two points, just like before?"

Krystal was quickly becoming displeased with her intellectually-minded acquaintance. "You still wouldn't have a line, Voltimure. Can you just tell me what this 'rending device' does?"

Completely ignoring her request, Voltimure continued to ramble on. "Ah yes! You would not have a line anymore, but the path from Point A to Point B would be the same, nonetheless."

"Voltimure, please."

"Oh fine," he conceded, displeased that Krystal had forced him to abandon his rhetoric. "Essentially, a rending device bridges the gap between the two points by tearing apart the time-space continuum and allowing for a warp point to be created without the need for a gate."

Krystal looked up at him with a shocked and confused expression, although Voltimure was unable to perceive any of her facial expressions because she was wearing a helmet. Musing on the past, she very clearly remembered that the Aparoids had been able to fast-travel through space without having to rely on warp gates for transportation. The alien creatures' strange ability had tantalized Cornerian scientists ever since they had come into contact with them; but to their disappointment, they never managed to uncover the mystery behind the insect-like species' ability to fast-travel.

If Voltimure was correct in his assumptions, a device that was installed somewhere in the Iridian-built _Khaimaira_ would be capable of the same feat. As she pondered the information the lupine had related to her, the pieces quickly began to come together—the Aparoid-esque appearance of the black warship that had appeared on Adalmure and Fortuna; the Revnite race's tendency towards order through computerization; and most of all, the Archetype's revelation in her initial dream about the Revnite species' ultimate goal—to digitize and assimilate all sentient life.

A sharp chill ran down her spine, and her fur stood on end at the realization that the Aparoids were nothing more than a dark machination of the Revnite manifesto. She continued to mull over the shocking influx of information, but she was soon interrupted by Voltimure excitedly shouting, "I found it!"

The scientist hovered his razor-like claws over a small black button with a subtle, triangular glyphic letter printed on it, waiting for Krystal to give him the go-ahead and allow him to press it. "Shall I press the button, Krystal?" he asked with nervousness and excitement gushing from his mouth.

Krystal briefly paused to think about the choice that had been presented to her. She knew that it was necessary to use the so-called 'rending device,' but her conscience was afflicted by the knowledge of what would be waiting for her if she followed through and allowed Voltimure to activate the fast-travel system. Forcing herself to project confidence as she spoke, she replied, "Yes, Voltimure."

Voltimure quickly pressed the black button, prompting a digital map to appear on the ship's dashboard interface directly in front of Krystal. A synthetic readout of the entire galaxy could be seen, revealing worlds that neither Krystal nor Voltimure knew existed. Somewhere in the upper left hand corner of the galaxy was a small, _Khaimaira_-shaped avatar which served as a marker for the ship's current location. Without asking Krystal for any additional permissions, Voltimure magnified the view of the galaxy, bringing Lylat and its nearby systems into focus. Not precisely certain what to do, he tepidly touched the planet marked 'Corneria' in Iridian Glyphic, bringing up a screen that read, "_Are you sure you want to travel to 'Corneria?_'"

Voltimure temporarily pulled his eyes from the readout and looked at Krystal, who was seated in the pilot's seat anxiously tapping her fingers on the armrests. "Are you ready, Krystal?" he asked.

The vixen briefly paused to collect herself. "Yes," she replied.

Voltimure took a deep breath and pressed the selection marked 'Yes.' Immediately after he had made his decision, a strange whirring noise filled the bridge before the relative silence was overwhelmed by a ferocious shredding sound, causing the void in front of the ship to begin tearing apart. Krystal looked agape at the gaping hole in space that had opened up in front of the ship as she felt herself moving towards it. On the other side of the rift, which was just large enough for the _Khaimaira _to fit through, was the planet Krystal had come to know as home—Corneria. The transition from Iridium to Corneria was nearly seamless, and it took less than twenty seconds for the ship to fully clear the gap. The tear in space closed behind the _Khaimaira_ after it had passed through as if it had never existed to begin with.

With the fast-travel completed, Krystal quickly sized up the situation above Corneria. She had been concerned about the large blockade surrounding the planet, but as she observed the scores of silenced ships, she realized that all of them had either been dashed to pieces or completely disabled in the exact same way that the ships above Fortuna had been.

The vixen opened the _Khaimaira_'s communication channel and broadcasted a signal in hopes that she would be able to receive a response, but nothing came back to her other than complete and utter silence. Nervously, she turned her helmeted head and looked up at Voltimure, who was still standing by her side, looking out the ship's front windows at the silent remains of the Cornerian blockade. "Are we too late?" Krystal worriedly asked.

"I don't know, Krystal… _I don't know…"_

* * *

The situation above Corneria City was growing more and more dire with every passing second. With the _Phoenix _destroyed, nothing could stand in the way of the oversized monolith that once again began to emit a blue curtain of light from its underside as it moved closer to the city center. To make matters worse, the drone fighters assigned to protect the warship seemed to be more difficult to take down than they had been before. Slippy's hands were shaking behind the controls of his heavily damaged Arwing, while Fox and Falco were doing everything they possibly could to assist the less experienced Cornerian pilots in their plight against the overly intuitive UAVs. Nothing seemed to be working, and it was all they could do to avoid being shot down. They feared that if they continued to engage the UAVs in hopes of destroying them, they would become highly dangerous enemies with the propensity to send their Arwings to the ground in flames.

Fox set his sights on one of the black and blue UAVs that had wandered into his line of fire. He pulled the trigger, sending off a quick blast that struck the unmanned vehicle, causing it to bank away and attempt to flee. "_You're not getting away that easy,_" he muttered, rolling his Arwing onto its side and pulling up on his flight stick to pursue the small craft. The drone quickly dove towards the ground, forcing Fox to cut his throttle input and brake in order to keep a visual on the craft that was determined to shake him off. Fire from another UAV rattled across his cockpit, but Fox kept his sights on the drone that seemed to know exactly what he was going to do next.

He managed to lock onto the small fighter and launch a smart bomb, but at the last possible second, the drone barrel rolled out of the way and escaped the ensuing explosion. Fox clenched his teeth and accelerated his Arwing, refusing to be outdone by a machine, no matter how intelligent it was. The Revnite drone and the Arwing climbed high into the clouds over Corneria City, with Fox repeatedly firing and in turn missing his target. The drone rolled over and raced back toward the ground, with Fox's eyes never leaving the craft as it descended. Deciding that the chase had to end, Fox queued up two missiles and fired them simultaneously from their respective mounts on the sides of the Arwing's fuselage. Because of the small size of the Arwing, he could only carry four at one time.

The missiles tracked straight and true; and when the drone fighter abruptly increased altitude and rolled to the left, the projectiles dutifully followed it, rapidly closing in for the mechanical kill. Fox held his breath, watching wide-eyed as they closed in on the craft that found itself unable to shake them. He waited for the telltale explosion which would be followed by a message on his fighter's interface; but before the missiles could reach the drone, a familiar-looking white and blue fighter raced in and razed the UAV, causing the missiles to lose their tracks and eventually fizzle out in midair. Fox cursed under his breath and balefully stared at the fighter that was undoubtedly the repainted IA-42 that he had left in Admen earlier that day.

The pandemonium throughout the Cornerian communication lines was shattered by the a powerful, masculine voice of the _Phaidon_'s captain announcing, "This is Captain Geist of the _Phaidon_. We have arrived—stand by and clear combat sector E for our arrival."

Looking to his right, Fox saw a bundle of lightning bolts forming over the ocean, cascading in a stunning display of light before they faded out and gave way to the large, black-colored form of the ONYX battlecruiser christened _Phaidon_. The ship deactivated its experimental cloaking system and slowly maneuvered towards the enemy vessel until both ships were parallel with each other. The ONYX ship was the largest of its kind, but the black and blue juggernaut was still significantly more sizeable.

"Open fire, men! Focus your attacks on the refractor near the front of the ship!" the _Phaidon_'s captain bellowed as the Cornerian warship began pounding the opposing vessel with its powerful side guns. Unlike dreadnaughts such as the _Phoenix _and the _Great Fox_, the blocky Cornerian battlecruiser was designed for balanced firepower from all angles, allowing it to engage enemies from any location without having to worry about being vulnerable to an attack on its weaker areas.

The phantasmal enemy ship quickly began to fire its own side cannons; although at least for the moment, the _Phaidon _had the upper hand in the conflict. The black and blue ship had been designed around its enormous central cannon; and its auxiliary armaments had been considered more of an afterthought during its construction. Heavy damage became apparent on the vessel's starboard side as the ONYX battlecruiser continued to relentlessly pummel the ship, delivering several sharp blows to the source of the mysterious blue curtain that had been combing the city below. The blue light cut in and out before completely vanishing, showing no signs of reemergence after its apparent demise.

A large explosion suddenly emanated from the right side of the invading warship immediately following a bombardment from the _Phaidon. _For a mere moment, all communication lines grew eerily silent, drowning the airspace above Corneria City in a hushed, cold ambiance which was accompanied by a low-pitched humming noise that resonated through the cockpit of each and every Cornerian fighter.

Out of the silence came a voice. "_I'm sorry. I tried to save you, but now, you have damned yourselves to extinction."_

The voice was that of a woman, and its lack of emotion or feeling was haunting in its depth. The sound of her voice sent chills down the spines of the pilots and caused several of them to visibly begin shaking in their seats. No one—not even General Graves—dared to make a response.

Without warning, the behemoth rotated on its axis and slammed into the port side of the _Phaidon_, using its prodigious size to severely damage the Cornerian craft and knock it out of position. While the crew of the _Phaidon _struggled to regain control of their ship, the enemy warship turned even harder into the side of the battlecruiser, firing heavy rounds from its side cannons into the ONYX craft's hull at point blank range.

"Shields at 25%! Armor integrity is at 21! We can't take more of this!"

Attempting to remain calm in spite of the perilous situation, General Graves ordered, "Fire back. It's the only way you can break free."

"But sir! The ship can't take it!" the captain screamed.

Completely unfazed by the captains concerns, the avian general demanded, "Do it, captain."

The captain of the ONYX battlecruiser obediently ordered his crew to return fire, even though the damage inflicted by firing their guns at point blank would be nearly catastrophic to their own shielding. The ship's shields almost immediately dropped to 7%, but slowly, the _Phaidon _managed inflict enough damage on the enemy ship to allow for a small window of opportunity to break away into open air. The battlecruiser fired what was left of its engines and sped out of the enemy's line of fire, although to turn around and initiate another attack on the hulking enemy ship would have been considered suicidal.

After watching the _Phaidon _nearly escape from destruction, Slippy quickly glanced to his left to be certain that he was not being flanked by one of the enemy drones. However, he saw something very different approaching the scene of the airborne skirmish. "Guys, do you see that thing?" he nervously asked.

Before Fox or Falco had a chance to reply to Slippy's question, Peppy's voice came through the airborne communication network. "We've detected another target approaching the combat sector! My goodness—it's huge! Almost as big as the enemy ship!"

"Reinforcements? You can't be serious," Fox muttered.

Peppy continued, "Our radar scans show that it's five miles out and closing fast. It'll be on us in less than a minute."

Fox lowered his head to his chest and grimaced. "Can you confirm if it's hostile?"

Peppy was about to give Fox his reply, but General Graves usurped Peppy's position and answered for him. The avian's voice was brimming with hatred and intense frustration. "It's definitely hostile—it's transmitting Iridian Glyphic symbols. There's nothing friendly about that ship."

"Damn it… What do we do now?"

The general's voice seemed to become even more cross with every word he spoke. "I don't know, Fox! This is bulls**t! Absolute bulls**t! Captain Geist! What's your shield reading?"

"5%, General," the _Phaidon_'s captain replied.

"DAMN IT!" the avian roared, slamming his wings down on the control interface in front of him. "We're done for!"

Still shaking off attacks from the hordes of drone fighters surrounding the phantasmal warship, Fox thought that he felt a presence in his mind—a familiar presence that managed to put him at ease, despite the severity of his current situation. Like a calming breeze, it embraced him and gave him a sense of security amidst the dire chaos above Corneria City. Only once had he felt this way before—and it was the first time that he and Krystal kissed.

"_Is that you, Krystal?" _he silently pondered, allowing the calming aura to flow through him. In the ensuing seconds, his world became surreal, slowing to a blur in the same way it had when he had climbed into his Arwing before lifting off to engage the warship and its defense drones. In his disoriented state, the distressed, furious voice of General Graves was barely audible to him. "_Fighters! Get out of the way!_"

Subconsciously following the general's orders, Fox smoothly increased his Arwing's thrust and leveled out over the downtown area of Corneria City while the enemy behemoth slowly turned on its axis, facing the opposite direction over Corneria Beach in hopes of finishing off the heavily damaged _Phaidon _with its heavy main cannon. Flames and smoke poured out from the hull of the crippled ONYX battlecruiser as its crew frantically attempted to maneuver out of the monolithic battleship's line of fire.

Fox heavily banked his Arwing and pulled around just as the unmistakable 'cracking' sound of heavy, ship-mounted railguns resounded through the night skies. The approaching ship could now be clearly seen by all. Fox's world nearly stopped completely as he took in the fearsome appearance of the silver and red battleship that was approaching the enemy behemoth far too quickly and aggressively. The ship's twin rail cannons sliced through the air once again, sending their explosive ordnances into the hull of the damaged enemy battleship. The silver warship made no attempt to slow itself in the least. A collision was inevitable.

With only seconds to impact, Fox watched as the sleek battleship rolled onto its side with all guns blazing, its powerful engines screaming in protest like a chorus of howling banshees. In the next second, Fox's vision went to white, and all sounds vanished from his ears. Everything seemed to come to a complete stop; and the only thing that he perceived was the calming aura that he had felt when the silver battleship first came into view. As he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he heard a voice in his mind quietly whisper his name.

"_Fox."_

He snapped his eyes open, causing the world to rapidly come back into focus. A powerful explosion shook the airwaves around him as the approaching silver warship slammed into the side of the black monolith, creating an explosion of apocalyptic proportions. Fox's jaw dropped as the enormous fireball slowly faded to reveal two halves of the giant warship—slowly crashing to the ground below.


	24. Chapter 24: Aftermath

**Chapter 24: Aftermath**

Date and Time: April 23, 10 ALW, 12:24 A.M.

Fox's adrenaline was still flowing as he slowed his Arwing and descended towards Corneria Beach, where an enormous crowd had already begun to gather around the wreckage of the black and blue battleship that had been broken in half by the _Khaimaira_'s desperate attack. The front portion of the ship had fallen into the shallow ocean waters, while the rear half had crashed into an urban residential area, causing extensive damage to the surrounding structures.

Carefully, Fox brought his Arwing to rest on the soft sands of the beach before unlatching his flight harness and leaping out of the cockpit onto the sandy ground. Falco and Slippy followed his lead and landed their Arwings next to his. Roughly a quarter mile from his position, he could see the silver and red battleship slowly extending its landing gear and touching down in the shallow breakers just off the shore. The damage on the front end of the ship was extensive, although it appeared to be functioning normally. Its wings also seemed to be noticeably marred, among other things. In seconds, the large warship's front loading ramp extended from the bottom of the ship's hull; allowing Fox to catch a glimpse of three figures, one of which appeared to be very tall.

Falco and Slippy quickly came to Fox's side, although they remained unnaturally silent following the frantic airborne skirmish. Falco moved his mouth in an attempt to make a comment, but he only managed to mumble a series of incomprehensible syllables. To his left, Fox noticed three black Arwings methodically parked on the beach, along with their respective pilots—a sand-colored fox with three tails, a gray falcon, and another vulpine who covered his entire figure with the color black, including his tail. The three-tailed vulpine appeared to be the leader of the three; and his heavy ONYX armor sported a prominent red stripe that ran down the middle of his suit and identified him as a figure of great importance.

The general hubbub around the wreckage of the enemy warship was exacerbated by the exaggerated entry of a heavy military SUV driven by none other than General Graves. The elderly avian general heedlessly smashed through a thin wooden fence bordering the beach and skidded to a halt, flinging sand several feet into the air in the process. The general leapt out of the vehicle along with Peppy, Beltino, and Prime Minister Schauer.

People from all portions of the city continued to pour into the beachfront area, including former general Pepper, who quickly ran his eyes across the severed hull of the fallen battleship while forcing his way through the sands of Corneria Beach with the help of his cane. While the rest of the Cornerian fighters began to land either on the beach or back at the military complex, Fox jogged to catch up with General Graves, who was sprinting more quickly than a man his age should have been able to. Clearly, something about the unidentified Iridian ship had ruffled his feathers.

In a short amount of time, Graves caught up with the three ONYX pilots who had landed before Star Fox. Turning to the sandy vulpine leader, he pointed to the three figures slowly approaching them and sternly ordered, "Get your weapons ready. I don't trust them, especially the tall one." The three armored soldiers all cocked their weapons and held them at the ready as the three figures continued to move closer to them.

Fox had left Falco and Slippy behind; and now, he broke into a run in an attempt to catch up to the General and find out who had been responsible for bringing down the warship that had caused irreparable damage to the Cornerian Army's space fleets. As he began to come up on Graves and his unit, he was finally able to accurately observe the three figures that had exited the silver warship that loomed in the distance ahead of him. By this time, they were only three hundred feet away. The first figure was a black-furred creature that was very reminiscent of the vulpine he had encountered on Adalmure; the second was a very tall lupine wearing a long, white coat; and the appearance of the third figure immediately caused his heart rate to spike.

He knew exactly who the blue-armored figure was. Her confident, sultry walk and the blue tail that swished behind her back were more than enough to give Fox the message that Krystal had returned. With unbridled passion, he sprinted towards her; but before he overtook General Graves and his entourage, he heard the vixen's voice in his mind. "_Stop, Fox_."

"W…why?" he mumbled, shocked that Krystal would attempt to keep him from reaching her. He waited for a mental response from Krystal, but she gave him nothing in return. Even stranger was that he had been hearing her voice inside his mind ever since the arrival of the silver Iridian warship that was now parked in the shallow ocean waves. She had telepathically communicated with him in the past, but it was very rare for her to do this. According to her, it was because it took a great deal of energy for her to communicate anything more than emotions or feelings from her mind to Fox's because he was not a Cerinian. Had he been one of her kind, the process would have been much easier for her.

With a look of disappointment and worry on his face, Fox came to a stop roughly fifty feet behind General Graves. In seconds, the distance between the four Cornerians and the three visitors diminished; and they found themselves standing face to face, sizing each other up without uttering a word. General Graves and Voltimure Reige locked eyes, engaging in a death stare with each other. Both of them could feel the tension and the sheer hatred for each other in the crisp night air around them. The three ONYX soldiers all held their weapons at the ready in case the large lupine decided to attack their leader, but he never made a move. Instead, he continued to gaze at the avian general with a glare that contained a healthy amount of resentment. However, his countenance seemed to project an air of sadness, as well.

For a brief moment, the avian turned his attention to Krystal—the one who had disobeyed his executive order and fled Corneria in search of the planet Iridium. An order for her death or life imprisonment had been placed on her; but here she was, standing in front of him after having brought down the ship that had threatened the very existence of the Cornerian Federation. General Graves had nothing to say to either her or Voltimure. He was indebted to them in a way for which he could never repay; and yet, he hated both of them with a burning passion.

Frustrated, Graves lowered his gaze to the ground and slowly turned around, walking away from the crew of the _Khaimaira _without looking back. The avian's usually-proud posture was fixed in an uncharacteristic slouch with his wings locked behind his back and his head hung in shame. Seeing their commander leaving the area, the three ONYX troopers followed Graves and began to walk away from Violet, Voltimure, and Krystal. As the three soldiers left, the shadowy figure of Omicron Zero turned his head, looked at Krystal, and nodded to her before falling back into formation with his colleagues.

With Graves and company gone, Voltimure motioned for Violet to return to the _Khaimaira_ and wait for him while Krystal began to walk towards Fox. Once the vulpine had caught a glimpse of her, his vision had never strayed. He stood around 25 yards from her position with his hands in his pockets as the cool sea breeze whistled through his red fur. Seeing Krystal moving towards him, Fox stepped through the sand to meet her. When only ten feet stood between them, Krystal pulled off her sealed helmet and dropped it to the sand at her feet before throwing her arms around Fox and squeezing him as tightly as she possibly could.

Because she was unaware of her additional strength as a result of the Archetype's procedure, she held him like a vice, causing him to quietly yelp in pain. "Ow, Krystal! You're crushing me!" he whimpered, feeling like he was being asphyxiated by his mate's feverish embrace.

"Sorry, Fox," she apologized, releasing the pressure around Fox's shoulders and chest. "…It's just that I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too, Krystal. I never thought I would miss you so much if you left me."

"Fox! No! I would never leave you! Why would you think I would do that?" she scornfully replied.

Fox looked up into Krystal's glowing eyes and pressed his muzzle against hers. His breaths caressed the vixen's mouth as he whispered, "I don't know why it happens, but it seems like everything I love is taken from me at some point—my father, my mother, my friends that died in the Aparoid War, Fara Phoenix… I was afraid that I would lose you too, Krystal."

"Oh, Fox…" She once again tightened her grip on Fox with her left hand while softly placing her right paw on the nape of Fox's neck and drawing him in for a long, passionate kiss that both of them had been longing for ever since the Battle of Fortuna. Fox felt as if he would melt away in the moment; but even though he would have never known it, so did Krystal. The only thing that dampened the moment was the fact that Krystal was covered in a suit of armor that prevented Fox from feeling the warmth of her embrace. However, minor technicalities such as that failed to ruin the mood surrounding Krystal's return from Iridium. In reality, almost nothing in the entire universe could have made Fox any happier.

When they finally pulled out of their amorous exchange of love for each other, Krystal looked to her right and nearly jumped out of her fur. Standing fifty feet away from them was the tall figure of the red-striped ONYX leader, silently watching with his three tails fluttering in the light maritime wind. He had removed his helmet, revealing his scarred, damaged face that still radiated a strong sense of power. His countenance was riddled with sadness and disappointment; and when Krystal looked at him, he hung his head in shame.

Noticing the ONYX trooper's strange behavior, Fox nervously asked Krystal, "What's the problem?"

Almost breathlessly, the vixen replied, "I…I used to know him."

"What? When was this?"

"When I was a girl on Cerinia," she whimpered. "He was my first love. The last time I saw him was four years ago. He said that his people needed him and that he had to leave Cerinia to help them. He promised that he'd come back for me…but…"

The Cerinian lowered her head and began to softly weep. "…But he never did. Cerinia was destroyed before he had the chance."

The vixen sorrowfully lifted up her eyes and motioned for the soldier to come closer while simultaneously placing a telepathic suggestion in his mind. The gold fox slowly approached Fox and Krystal, stopping once he was standing directly in front of the vixen.

In a broken voice, the tawny vulpine asked Krystal, "Does he love you? Does he treat you well—the way you were meant to be treated?"

"Even more than that, Carmine," Krystal murmured. "I couldn't ask for anything more from him."

The soldier sighed, exhuming a deep draught of air in the process. It was apparent to Krystal that he was torn apart inside by the knowledge that she was in love with another man, all because he had been unable to remain true to his promise to return to Cerinia and make her his bride. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you, Krystal. I heard what happened to Cerinia, but…"

"It's okay, Carmine. What's done is done. I don't hold anything against you," Krystal reassured him, placing her paws on his shoulders and looking directly into his eyes.

"Thank you," Carmine whispered. Turning to face Fox, he soberly said, "Soldier, don't make the same mistake I did. Promise me that you'll always be there for her."

A confident smile crossed Fox's lips as he assured him, "Don't worry, sir—I will."

Without another word, the red-striped ONYX solider placed his helmet back onto his head and left Fox and Krystal to themselves on the beach, which had begun to clear out. The scene in Corneria City was still chaotic, but the immediate danger had passed with the destruction of the monolithic enemy battleship. The only thing left to do was to repair the damage created by the large ship's wreckage and move on.

Krystal yawned and looked back at the damaged _Khaimaira_, still anchored to the shoreline not too far from their position. "Is that yours?" Fox asked, taking notice of the Iridian battleship.

"Would you believe it if I said it was?"

"At this point, I think I'd believe anything," Fox replied, lovingly wrapping his arm around Krystal's shoulders. "Come on, let's go talk to Peppy. Maybe he can help us find somewhere to stay the night while the clean-up crews try to figure out what to do with that thing." He shook his head in awe of the formidable task that was in store for the municipal workers. Removing the black warship from the beach and the surrounding areas would likely take weeks—if not months.

With his hand still around Krystal's shoulder, Fox began to walk back to where Falco and Slippy were conversing with Peppy, Beltino, and Pepper. It was not until they could clearly be seen that Krystal asked, "Hey, where's Voltimure?"

* * *

While the commotion around the scene of the enormous warship continued to fester, Voltimure had managed to sneak away from all of the mayhem. He made his way across the sands of Corneria Beach until he came to a wooded area near the vacant shoreline. Large palm trees complimented the assortment of pines and oaks that also populated the forest, which had been set apart by the city as a designated natural area, not to be disturbed by machinery of any kind.

Having sent Violet back to the _Khaimaira_, he walked on alone, making sure that no one would see him as he carefully trudged through the pine needles at the edge of the forest. His motives for leaving the scene of the enemy ship's wreckage were unbeknownst to anyone apart from him—in fact, no one had noticed as he slowly slipped away and out of sight. He constantly scanned the edge of the quiet ocean waves as they rolled in, moistening the sand and leaving foamy, white contrails in the beach before they retreated back into deeper waters, only to advance once more.

The large lupine knew what he was looking for, but after watching the shoreline for more than ten minutes, he began to become concerned. Then, he saw something. About a hundred yards ahead of him, a sole figure had washed ashore and was lying face-down in the moist sand. The mild ocean waves lapped around it, but it made no movements of any kind.

Voltimure sprinted towards the unconscious figure, his heavy boots creating deep indentations in the beach sand as he ran. As he neared the unidentified figure, he realized exactly who it was. The being's unique black and blue fur coloration immediately identified her as Agatha Dhalva of Revnus. Concerned that her life might have already been extinguished, Voltimure scooped her up from the wet sand and headed into the cover of the forest, where he set her down in front of a rock and knelt before her.

Her breathing was very faint, and her eyes were closed; but she was still alive—barely. Softly, Voltimure spoke to her, hoping that the long-forgotten sound of his voice would bring her back into a state of consciousness. "Agatha, please wake up."

He gently stroked the fur below her left eye, eliciting a soft groan from the midnight-colored vixen. Very slowly, she opened her eyes and immediately recognized Voltimure. However, instead of expressing joy upon seeing her long-lost husband, her face took on a pained, sorrowful expression.

"Voltimure, why are you trying to stop me?" she whimpered, knowing that he had been in the ship that had brought an end to her attack on Corneria City.

Trying to be gentle in his response, Voltimure replied, "I'm trying to help you, Agatha. It's not too late to change. I have a place where we can live together for as long as we want. Will you come with me?"

The black vixen rolled onto her side and pushed herself off the ground with great difficulty; eventually standing up and struggling to stay on her feet. Bracing herself against a palm tree, she gazed at Voltimure with the most tragic expression he had ever seen from her. Even though she said nothing to him, Voltimure knew that her answer to his question was an unequivocal 'no.'

"Please, Voltimure," she murmured. "Come with me—it's the only way."

"No, Agatha," the lupine firmly replied. "I'm not buying that."

The Revnite looked out at the ocean and pondered her future. With her battleship gone, along with its refractor device which she had taken from the crypt on Adalmure; her initial plan to assimilate the sentient life of the Lylat System had been foiled with the help of her beloved husband.

"Voltimure," she coldly said, turning to look at the lupine. "I'm going to bring this system to its knees. If you won't come with me, I will have no choice but to kill you along with the other pathetic residents of Lylat. This is your last chance, Voltimure. Please, save yourself! Come with me!"

Voltimure solemnly gazed at the ground, down at the small saplings that were attempting to spring up amongst the pine needles that littered the soft ground at his feet. Ever since discovering that his wife was still alive, he had desperately hoped that he would be able to convince her to relent with her attacks and come back to Iridium with him. Now, though, he realized that she had changed more than he had ever thought possible. The person standing in front of him was still Agatha Dhalva—the wonderful vixen he had fallen in love with long ago—but she was no longer the Agatha that he knew and loved. That Agatha had long since been replaced by a vengeful, misguided soul intent on accomplishing the long-held dream of her extinct people.

With sorrow in his eyes, Voltimure replied to her desperate plea.

"No."

Upon hearing Voltimure's answer, Agatha became visibly furious. Her arms trembled, and her mouth shifted into a vicious scowl with her teeth bared in hatred. Voltimure gasped in shock at what took place next. Slowly, the blue lines on both her body and her tight clothing began to change their hue from a vibrant blue to a searing, baleful orange. In the space between the trees that stood behind her, one of the Revnite UAVs which the Cornerians had faced slowly began to approach its leader. The Aparoid-like craft methodically descended to the sandy beach roughly forty yards from where Agatha stood before rearranging its front armor plating to reveal a space for a passenger.

The Revnite turned to Voltimure with anger in her eyes and said, "You'll regret this, Voltimure. I promise you that." Then, she walked towards the beached UAV and clambered up into the open space which passed as a cockpit while Voltimure looked on in disbelief. The large lupine scientist watched with his eyes nearly in tears as his once-beloved wife slowly raised the ship from the beach and turned it around before activating its powerful thrusters and slowly vanishing into the distance until it could no longer be seen.

* * *

An hour later, after the majority of the onlookers had dispersed from Corneria Beach, leaving it mostly empty; Fox and Krystal climbed into the back seat of a military SUV which Peppy volunteered to drive. General Graves had left some time ago, taking his vehicle with him and leaving the hare without a ride back into the city. As a result, it was necessary for the Lieutenant General to acquire a new source of transportation for himself and his friends.

The old rabbit sighed heavily and turned the ignition key, bringing the SUV's heavy diesel engine to life. After the destruction of the enormous enemy ship, the adrenaline had long since departed from his system, leaving behind an immense tiredness that no amount of caffeine could lift. Weakly, Peppy rotated his arm to look at his watch and noticed that it read 1:18 A.M. "_Man—that was tense,"_ he muttered to himself, shifting the SUV into drive and maneuvering the heavy vehicle back onto the nearest city street, which was eerily quiet in the early hours of the morning. With the danger posed by the black and blue battleship long gone, many of Corneria's residents had returned to their homes and apartments. Only those who had lost their homes when the ship's rear half fell on them remained outside in the moonlit city.

With very little traffic on the streets of Corneria City, Peppy's drive was nearly unimpeded by red traffic signals as he steadily made his way back to his house, where he had offered Fox and Krystal a room for the night. He quickly glanced over his shoulder and saw the two vulpines fast asleep in the back seat. Krystal was draped across Fox's chest while he held her with both of his arms encircling her armored torso. Both of them were understandably exhausted from the activities they had both taken part in not too long ago.

Peppy cracked a faint, melancholy smile and refocused his eyes on the mostly empty road ahead. He had never told Fox or Krystal about this, but they reminded him so much of Fox's father James and his wife Vixy when they were younger. They had acted the same way towards each other as Fox and Krystal did now; and if the past was any indication of the future, Fox and Krystal would be an excellent couple—possibly even parents to a beautiful young kit that would take after their legacy in the same way that Fox had taken after his father's when his heroic life was abruptly brought to an unfortunate and gruesome end. Retrospectively, Peppy looked out his driver's side window and glanced up into the starry expanse high above him. "_I miss you, friend,"_ he whispered. _"I wish I had the chance to talk with you just one last time. Fox is just like you—and I know you'd be proud of him."_

Noticing a red light up ahead, Peppy hit the brakes and slowed to a halt, trying to be as gentle as possible in order not to wake the sleeping foxes in the back seat. The light that marked the intersection between Main Street and Bowman Avenue had turned red to allow a black sedan to cross the normally bustling intersection. Peppy curiously looked at the vehicle's driver as the car passed and became puzzled and mildly concerned when he noticed that it was General Graves who was behind the wheel. He had only seen him use his personal car once, and that was when he had been granted a three-day vacation as a reward for his efforts in the Aparoid War.

However, now was not the time for the General to take a vacation. Slightly worried about the avian, Peppy scratched the underside of his chin and watched as the black sedan slowly drove down Main Street, heading away from the city center out towards a suburban area on the north side of town.

Shortly thereafter, the traffic light turned green, allowing Peppy to continue his drive back to his house. Normally, it took him thirty minutes to reach the Cornerian military complex after leaving his residence, but because there was almost no traffic on the streets in the early hours of the morning, he was able to move much more quickly than usual.

Within ten minutes, he reached the suburban neighborhood marked by an ornate sign that read "Orange Summit." Slowing the vehicle to observe the low speed limit in the development, he looked back and forth across the streets at the dimly-lit rows houses and frowned at the unnecessarily loud clattering of his SUV's diesel powerplant. It was not his intent to wake his neighbors. He was on good terms with most of them, but the owner of the development was known to become easily irritated if the noise level in the neighborhood became too loud.

Fortunately, though, it would be over soon enough. Peppy carefully gave the bulky vehicle's throttle a quick nudge and crested the small incline that led to the cul-de-sac where his house was located. The building itself was unremarkable except for the history of its owner. Nothing in particular about the modern, two-story building stood out from the rest of the houses. The yard was well-manicured, and the ornamental trees and shrubs were well-kept and watered; but not as well as Peppy would have liked because of his duties as Lieutenant General.

Feeling almost as tired as his vulpine friends in the back seat, Peppy parked his lumbering SUV in the driveway and shut off the noisy engine. The change in the noise level immediately alerted Fox and Krystal to the status of their journey, causing them to slowly awaken in the back seat of Peppy's military-issue vehicle. The elderly hare kindly opened the back left door and waited until both Fox and Krystal were awake enough to debark from the vehicle. Both foxes thanked him and slowly walked through the opened garage until they reached the locked door which led to Peppy's kitchen. Not wanting to make his friends wait, Peppy quickly hopped towards them before inserting his house key into the lock and opening the door.

This was the first time Krystal had ever set foot inside Peppy's house, although Fox had been here many times in the past. In fact, for as long as he had known Peppy, he had been living in this same house. The building had survived two major attacks on Corneria—first, by Andross, and then by the Aparoids—but its appearance had never deviated from its original designs. Some of the exterior trim was dangerously close to falling off in various places, but apart from small details such as that, it looked very similar to the building Fox remembered going to when his parents would send him away to visit Uncle Peppy so that they could spend time doing things which they never cared to explain to Fox—at least when he was younger.

Peppy led the way into the two-story house, flipping on the lights as he entered the kitchen with Fox and Krystal in tow. Letting out a sizeable yawn, the old rabbit wearily explained, "I'm going to bed. Your bedroom is upstairs. Have a good night, you two."

"Thanks, Peppy," Fox gratefully replied, turning to Krystal and taking her soft, blue hand.

"Oh, Krystal…" Peppy exclaimed, almost as if he had forgotten something.

"What is it, Peppy?"

With a weak smile, he answered, "I'm glad you made it back in one piece. I'm getting tired of my friends dying on me."

"Well, thank you, Peppy," she replied, tightly gripping Fox's hand as he began to lead her towards the stairs to the second level of the building. Apart from the kitchen, no other lights had been left on; save for one small lamp next to a leather armchair in Peppy's living room. Hand in hand, Fox and Krystal ascended the carpeted staircase while Peppy turned off the kitchen lights and headed off to bed, closing his bedroom door behind him.

Fox knew from memory where the guest bedroom was located, because he had slept in that very room many times before as a child. In the relative darkness that enveloped most of the house, Fox guided his love to the entrance of Peppy's guest bedroom and allowed her to enter first. The vixen quickly flipped on the room's lights, revealing the modestly-decorated space before her. The relatively small room contained a large, oaken dresser with a mirror, a full bathroom, a medium-sized closet, and a queen-sized bed covered with a royal blue bedspread. Soft, white pillows were neatly placed on top of the sheets, and a matching white decorative cloth was draped across the front of the bed.

"It's colored just like you," Fox said with a smile.

The vixen said nothing in return, but she smiled back and began to undo her armor plating, carefully placing each piece of armor on the carpet next to the bed until she was clad only in her white mantle. Fox's eyes widened upon seeing her in the form-fitting garment that perfectly showcased her physique, which somehow managed to be even more attractive to him than before. His heart began to race when he realized what she would likely do next.

Noticing Fox fixated on her every movement almost as if he was locked in a trance, Krystal walked up to him and tickled his nose, prompting him to giggle in a decidedly unmanly fashion. "Stop it!" he laughed, trying to bat Krystal's fingers away from his delicate muzzle. The cerulean vixen quietly laughed and walked over to the room's light switch to turn off the light. With the room darkened, Krystal took the liberty of slipping out of her mantle and folding it before neatly placing the white garment on the dresser, which was located on the left side of the room.

Even though she had turned off the room's main lights, her fully exposed figure was still visible to Fox, thanks to the dull green moonlight coming in from the opened blinds behind the bed. Ignoring Fox's speechless reverie, the vixen pulled the bedsheets forward and slid into bed, burrowing under the covers and making herself comfortable in the sea of soft fabric. In a playful tone of voice that hinted at something Fox had only dreamed of in the past, she said, "What are you waiting for, Fox? Come on!"

Fox's face broke into a euphoric smile as he gazed into Krystal's glowing aquamarine eyes. Ever since he had first seen her, he knew that she was someone special—someone he wanted to know on a personal level. Over the years, their friendship had grown into something much more as she slowly became a skilled pilot more than capable of holding her own against nearly any enemy. It was only a matter of time before Fox realized that he had truly found the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Krystal's place in her people's mysterious prophecy only caused him to love her even more. He felt unbelievably honored to be able to walk alongside someone like her; and he was even more enthralled by the knowledge that she shared the same feelings for him. Now the time had come to finish it—and begin anew with her as his mate for life.

Krystal had already explained to him that in her culture, once two Cerinians mated, both parties entered into an irrevocable and unspoken agreement to never leave or abandon each other. In effect, the act of mating was the same as a certificate of marriage on Corneria; except that it was taken even more seriously. Fox knew the ramifications of his decision to mate with Krystal, but he was beyond all doubt that she was the one for him. As he stood beside the bed, looking at Krystal, his thoughts quickly turned to what the Archetype had told him on Fortuna only a matter of days ago. "_By taking my daughter's hand in marriage, you are committing yourself to joining her in a trial far greater than anyone has ever faced before._" Fox remembered his answer; and it brought a smile to his face knowing that he cared enough about Krystal to risk his very life on account of her.

That night, in the moonlit guest bedroom on the second floor of Peppy's house, Fox and Krystal consummated their love for each other and gave of themselves in the way they had wanted to for so long. Neither of them had ever been more happy or satisfied in their entire lives. The release of more than two years' worth of pent-up tensions and desires was palpable to both of them, adding even more fuel to the already-raging fire. Neither of them held anything back, knowing that their decision to be united as one was final and not to be altered—no matter the cost.

After they had finished with their passionate exchange of love, they fell asleep in each other's arms with a pair of unconscious smiles gracing both of their faces.

* * *

Hours later, as the clock struck 4:30 A.M., Peppy was abruptly awakened by an unexpected call. He had placed his smartphone communicator on the heavy nightstand next to his bed, making it very difficult for him to reach it without leaving the comfort of his soft king bed. The old rabbit groaned and hunted for his phone in the darkness until his paw caught the edge of the ringing cellular device. Clumsily gripping it with his left hand, he brought it up to his face where he could see the caller's information without needing to locate his glasses. Curiously, the call was from Prime Minister Schauer.

Confused as to why the Prime Minister would bother to call him instead of General Graves, Peppy pressed the green button marked "Answer."

"H…hello? What's the matter, sir?" Peppy asked, still trying to wake up.

The sound of the vulpine leader's confident, mature voice came through the device's small speakers. "Lieutenant General, I apologize if I've interrupted your sleep; but what I have to tell you is very important."

"What is it, sir?"

The Prime Minister took a deep breath and answered, "Three hours ago, General Graves announced his resignation and cleared out his office. You're the new general of the Cornerian Federation, effective immediately."

Shocked and astounded by the news, Peppy unbelievingly exclaimed, "Sir! Did Graves give you a reason for his resignation?"

"I don't know for certain, General," he replied, "But I think it had something to do with the battleship that appeared and took down our enemy." He paused to allow the information to sink into before telling Peppy, "I'll be expecting you at the military complex in a few hours. Meet me in your office at 7:30 sharp."

"Yes, sir."

**END PART 1**

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):  
_

_As stated above, this is the end of part 1. As always, thanks for reading. There will be much more to come, but this story is going to be placed on hiatus for a while. Updates will be sporadic from this point on, although I'm not going to quit on it for any reason. For the moment, I'm going to focus my attention on The Oasis and another possible large-scale project.  
_

_I'll just come out and say it - when I first posted this story, I was hoping that I would get 50 reviews by the end. Now there's 60. I'm very happy that you enjoyed reading a written form of an idea I've had in my mind for literally a quarter of my life. By the time this story ends, I would really love to have 20 favorites. Just saying. Anyhow, take care, and keep an eye out for any future updates._


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